Deborah hadn’t really known her father and yet she missed him with all her heart. His sudden demise less than a year before while on business in Belize had been unexpected and had left her an orphan.

At 19, she was too young, in her opinion, to strike out alone and she did not have the heart to finish college. So now here she was aged 20 living with Cassidy and her father Tom Bainbridge.

Tom was an old army friend of her father’s and he had opened his home to her at the funeral without the slightest hesitation in such a paternal manner that it hadn’t even occurred to Deborah to refuse.

Since then she hadn’t needed to work or even help around the house. She was a permanent house guest and as such was treated like a princess. That was really the problem she sighed.

Over the previous year she had observed Cassidy’s relationship with Tom with growing envy. And that had been before she had found out.

From the time she first arrived she had noticed, but had never been able to put her finger on it.

“I have a bone to pick with you young woman,” he would say at breakfast or dinner and 19-year-old Cassidy would look downcast and reply in mutters.

Then later on Cassidy and Tom would disappear into the study, sometimes for hours. Afterwards Cassidy always looked positively glowing.

So one day she had resolved to find out what went on between them.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” Tom said one Saturday lunchtime.

“Yes Daddy,” Cassidy had said with a blush.

That was her chance, Deborah thought. As soon as she could she hurried off to the study and looked for a place to hide. With little time to ponder, she settled on the great marble disused fire place, which had a huge and heavy antique iron fire guard. Sitting behind it was easy and although she could not be seen it afforded her a flawless view of the room.

She didn’t have to wait long as after less than five minutes Tom entered followed by Cassidy.

“Why do you do these things?” Tom began scolding his diminutive daughter almost at once.

The petite blonde look down as ever and just chewed her lip.

“Well?” Tom barked.

“I’m sorry Daddy, I didn’t mean to do it I…”

“Didn’t mean to do what?” Tom’s eyes narrowed.

“The car I…”

“The car, what have you done to the car?”

“Oh.” Cassidy’s face fell. “I guess I really am for it then. You don’t know I backed into a lamp post yesterday?”

“Good grief girl. How much trouble can you get yourself into?”

“Are you going to spank me?”

Deborah shifted her bottom on the hard marble floor. A spanking? This was way too good to be true.

“I certainly was, but perhaps now I should take stronger measures,” Tom continued. “Is there anything else you want to confess while we are about it?”

“Um!” Cassidy looked up and pretended to consider. “This not about seeing Mark Channing again is it?”

“The Channing boy, I might have known and after I expressly forbade you to have anything to do with him.”

Cassidy looked panicked now, what did Daddy know? At this rate her bottom was in for a difficult afternoon indeed.

“One last chance to fess up or I’ll double the bill,” Tom said firmly folding his arms in a challenge.

Cassidy held her breath. Daddy couldn’t possibly know about the joint in the garden at Wendy’s party, could he? Drugs were number one badness. If Daddy knew about that then she would be grounded until at least Christmas and her bottom would get at least one industrial strength blistering and probably several. One false move here and things could get very sticky. What did he already know?

“How much mischief have you been up to?” Tom asked in exasperation when he saw no ready confession was coming his way.

Then Cassidy remembered giving Mrs Jones at the newsagents the finger as she drove off with Mark Channing. The old biddy must have split on her.

“I was rude to Mrs Jones,” Cassidy said quietly, dragging her toe along the edge of the rug. “Sorry.”

“Finally,” Tom heaved a sigh, not at all sure he wanted to know what else Cassidy had been up to.

Cassidy stared at her feet and awaited her doom.

“A spanking and the taws,” Tom said after a moment’s consideration. “The taws for seeing the Channing boy again and then you can consider yourself gated until further notice.”

“Yes Daddy,” Cassidy could not fault the justice of it. She even considered confessing about the drugs, as she was in a penitent mood, but her courage failed her.

In her hiding place, Deborah’s breath quickened until she was sure they could hear her. Then as she watched, she saw Cassidy reach under her cardigan and unbuckle her jeans belt. With a small blush she lowered them, together with her knickers right down to her ankles and then tottered forward towards Tom.

Tom reached into his desk draw and took out a heavy leather carpet slipper and then pulled his daughter firmly across his lap so that her bare bottom was, as it happened, presented to the fireplace.

Deborah noted that Cassidy had some stark tan lines that served to emphasise the twin bubbles of small but firm bottom. She noticed that her palms were sweating and she felt a little light-headed.

Cassidy grabbed a chair leg with her left hand while her right hand was held into the small of her back by Tom. There was no further ceremony as Tom immediately belaboured the girl’s bottom with rapid and certainly vigorous spanks.

The dull thudding whacks elicited little more than a murmur from the squirming Cassidy, although Tom blasted down with heavy spanks. Deborah was amazed at her friend’s fortitude.

This continued for several minutes until Cassidy’s bottom held two strong red ovals that all-but obliterated the previous smooth whiteness. By which time Cassidy was grunting at each impact and breathing hard. At some point she had crossed her ankles and bent her knees up, but so far as to block the spanking.

Still the spanking went on until at last Cassidy began to blub and then start to cry in earnest.

“Feeling it now aren’t you?” Tom said grimly.

“Yes Daddy,” Cassidy wept. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You always are, afterwards.”

Tom kept Cassidy barking out sobs for another few minutes as he spanked on until even Deborah could see she was spent.

“Now you think about the taws and how much worse it is,” Tom said pulling his daughter into his arms.

“Yes Daddy, sorry Daddy,” Cassidy sniffed her sobbing abating almost at once.

“Now you can go to the corner until I am ready to finish with you.”

Cassidy eased herself to her feet and nodded. Then making no attempt to cover her sore bottom, she shuffled over to the corner and stood there with her hands on her head.

“Good girl,” Tom said putting the slipper away.

Deborah watched in amazement as the 19-year-old meekly put herself into time out as readily as a five-year-old. Then as she moved to hug her knees, acutely conscious now of where the unyielding floor pressed hard into her bottom, she realised something else. She was moist with arousal between her thighs and she was dizzy with it.

*

It was a long afternoon and after an hour in the fireplace Deborah was almost as uncomfortable as Cassidy must have been. In fact the only event all afternoon was when Cassidy begged to be allowed to put her arms down, a request that was granted. Otherwise Cassidy did not move, except for some mild fidgeting and Tom kept his head down in some papers on his desk.

Finally Tom sat back and stretched his arms. Then he stood up and went again to his desk draw and took out a short length of thick leather split at one end into two.

“Alright, place yourself over the scroll arm of the bench,” Tom said pointing at an unusual long blue leather padded piece of furniture.

Cassidy looked nervously at the bench and flexed her fingers before shuffling across the floor, her feet still being restricted by her jeans and underwear around her ankles. The undignified posture she took, arse up across the scrolled end made Deborah gasp. She again felt a strange tingle in her lower belly and an increase in moisture thereabouts.

Then her father moved behind her running the leather across the palm of his hand.

“I won’t have you seeing that street trash Channing, not now and not ever. He might seem exciting to you but he is trouble, do you hear me?”

“Yes Daddy,” Cassidy offered up in a small voice, blinking hard as she did so.

“Dip a little,” Tom said firmly.

Cassidy responded by with back thrust of her bare bottom, as if she could be any more vulnerable.

Tom brought the taws down form the shoulder in a short powerful thrust that ended in a tangy splat across Cassidy’s exposed bottom.

“Ye-aah!” She exclaimed clawing at the leather upholstery.

As usual Tom did not set a count, he just laid in only intending to stop once Cassidy was done.

Up to then Cassidy’s bottom had looked somewhat recovered with only a trace of mottled red. Deborah had been almost disappointed in the lack of staying power in the colouring. She needn’t have worried. Within three punishing thwacks across her bottom it was redder than ever.

There was no chance that Cassidy could keep still for the taws and as well as wagging her bottom like a demented dog she was yelling her head off.

“Keep you bottom still,” Tom growled.

“But it hurts Daddy,” Cassidy snivelled.

Tom paused.

“Sorry Daddy, I know I deserve it.”

“That’s better.”

In her hiding place Deborah hugged herself at the exchange. At that moment she hoped the strapping would never end and she trembled with an intense longing she could not name.

Tom resumed with the taws, striking low and hard so that visible welts began to rise on Cassidy’s upper thighs and lower bottom.

“Ah-huh-a-huh,” Cassidy broke and became lost in her sobs.

“Will you seeing Channing again? Will you?” Tom roared.

“No Daddy no,” Cassidy wept.

“I’ll have you in here every day for a week, a month even if I hear of you being anywhere near him. Do you hear?”

The taws blazed another band of fire as he made his point.

“Yes Daddy.” Cassidy was becoming incoherent.

“Alright, back to the corner and stay there.”

Cassidy got painfully to her feet and trudged back to the corner her arms wagging at her sides in lieu of rubbing, which was strictly forbidden.

“Daddy may I?” Cassidy sniffed.

“Very well.”

Cassidy put her nose to the wall but this time with Tom’s permission clasped her hands in the small of her back rather than put them on her head.

That’s how she stayed for another hour while Deborah huddled behind the fire screen with her mind racing with all that she had seen.

*

For the next day or two Deborah knew what to look for in Cassidy’s behaviour and despite her sunny outlook, there was a stiffness about the way she moved and a hint of a wince whenever she sat down. That’s if she sat at all, for as Deborah noticed, Cassidy seemed to avoid chairs as much as possible for most of that week.

But it wasn’t Cassidy’s behaviour that pressed on Deborah’s mind as much as her own. The feeling that she was a pampered guest whose behaviour was always beyond question began to wear on her.

Then about three weeks later, after a restless night pondering the matter, she got up before dawn for a glass of milk. In process she left the fridge door open.

“Never mind,” Tom said at breakfast. “Not everything was spoiled. There was nothing much in there anyway.”

Deborah was mortified, not only because of the silly mistake, but by Tom’s easy reaction to it. So that evening she decided to confront him.

“Tom, do you have a minute?” She asked pushing open the study door.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” Tom beamed.

“Ah… I don’t know where to begin,” Deborah blushed and studied the carpet for inspiration.

“Start at the very beginning, a very good place to start…” Tom sang as he rocked back and forth in an impromptu half-dance.

Deborah laughed.

“It’s not that easy,” she giggled. “It’s sort of embarrassing.”

“Sounds serious,” Tom said with a mock frown.

“Well,” Deborah rolled her eyes to the side as if looking for a script for what to say written on the walls. “You know I have been here a year?”

“I did know that yes,” Tom said brightly and smiled encouragingly.

“I sort of feel like I am imposing, that I am still a guest here and this is all still temporary.”

“Heavens child, you don’t need to feel that, what can I say? Why do you feel that?” Tom’s frown was real now.

“Well like this morning when I left the fridge door open, you should have been cross, but…”

“Well it wasn’t a very big deal, anyone could have done it,” Tom said, but he began to see her point.

“If Cassidy had done it you would have…” Deborah didn’t finish.

Tom shrugged, puzzled.

“Punished her,” Deborah said firmly.

“For that? I doubt it,” Tom said. “I might have scolded her, I suppose. Yes I see.”

“I get away with everything. I am never punished or grounded or anything like Cassidy is,” Deborah said emboldened.

“But you’re 20, a bit old to be treated like a child,” Tom replied seriously.

“Cassidy’s only a year younger and you… punish her.”

“Well Cassidy’s my d… well she’s a handful and besides you’re a good girl,” Tom said, but this time doubt crossed his face.

“I’m not always a good girl. I stay out late and don’t always call. I… I spied on you, when you… you know,” Deborah blushed furiously and looked away.

“I see,” Tom said thoughtfully. “What do you suggest?”

“That I am treated the same as Cassidy.”

Tom nodded and considered this.

“So you know I sometimes give Cassidy a spanking and sometimes even more than that?”

Deborah blushed again and nodded.

“You saw that?”

“I was hiding in the fireplace,” Deborah admitted.

“What all afternoon?” Tom laughed.

“I didn’t know it would be that long,” Deborah said shyly.

“I see so you are sometimes a naughty girl after all,” Tom said trying to sound stern.

“I can be ever so bad,” Deborah gushed.

“And you think you deserve a spanking?”

Deborah nodded.

“Whatever you think, that or the other thing.”

“The other thing? Oh you mean the taws. I have a cane as well and sometimes I threaten Cassidy with the birch. She’ll get it too if she sees that Channing boy ever again.”

“Whatever you think,” Deborah said earnestly.

“I am not sure you would be able to… well handle it. It’s no small thing; Cassidy is… well she needs a very firm hand.”

“I thought the point was that I shouldn’t ‘handle it,’ I thought it was supposed to be… bad, so bad that it makes you good.”

Tom nodded and sat back on the edge of his desk. This would need careful thought, he considered.

“What would I do if I caught Cassidy snooping?” He said aloud. “The first time I think I would just put her over my knee.”

Deborah blushed and felt her insides collapse. But there was also a warm tickle at the nape of her neck, like she used to get when her father smiled at her.

Tom reached into the desk and took out the heavy slipper that he had last used to spank Cassidy with.

“Better take your own knickers down,” Tom said evenly.

Deborah suddenly looked cute in her vulnerability. Her eyes went wide like a lost puppy and the blush that framed them was the colour of a fresh cut rose. Nevertheless she reached under her skirt and tugged her underwear down to her knees.

“Shall I?” She asked indicating her skirt.

“I’ll do that,” Tom said pulling the girl towards him.

Deborah felt strangely calm and humble as she snuggled down across Tom’s lap. There was something paternal about the way he patted her still skirted bottom, although that didn’t stop the sudden rush of arousal she felt.

“Now Deborah, once I start this I will finish in my own good time and there will be nothing you can do about it. You understand that don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Debbie whispered.

The sir calling was involuntary, but told Tom her mind was at least set. He grabbed the hem of her skirt and flipped it up off her bare bottom. It was larger and more womanish than his daughter’s or perhaps he was just looking at it in a different light. He felt a pang of guilt and then shrugged. It had never given him a moment’s pause with his own daughter, why should this be different?

Then he began. The slipper blasted down hard, but slowly, at first anyway.

Deborah who was unused to any physical pain began whining at once, not that she knew it, but as promised Tom did not spare her and within a minute she was weeping over her very red bottom.

Tom paused for a moment and then made his decision and the spanking began in earnest.

“Wah aha-aha-ah huh,” Deborah bawled and began clawing at his lap in a struggle to escape. She had never expected anything like this. Not in a thousand years. At that moment she was sorry, sorry she was bad, sorry she was sorry and definitely sorry that she had ever started this. But most of all she was sorry that she had been born with a bottom.

Tom showed no mercy, anything less would be a let-down he knew, so he spanked as hard as he ever had before and certainly as long.

“Still curious?” He asked.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, aha-aha,” Deborah wailed.

Perhaps because she was not used to it, or perhaps because of her skin tone, Deborah’s bottom took on a deep plum colour with rubbery welts demarking a still white cleft between her bottom cheeks. Tom considered easing up, but if it had been Cassidy he would have added a little more so he held the pace for a while longer.

“Okay you asked for it and you got it. Now get in the corner with your skirts still up behind and we do not allow rubbing. Any easing of yourself and I will put you straight back over my knee,” Tom said in a growl.

“Yes sir,” Deborah sobbed doing exactly as she was told.

Tom kept her in the corner for 40 minutes, at least half the time he would have allowed for Cassidy, but mercifully once she had got her tears under control, Deborah had barely made a sound or allowed herself to fidget.

“That’s long enough,” Tom said at last. “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes sir,” Deborah said quietly, acutely aware that her bottom was still bare.

“Worse than you thought?”

“Much worse, but I feel much better now. I’ll try and take it more quietly next time,” Deborah said with a blush.

“Good girl,” Tom said with a smile. Good god he thought, she is serious. “Off you go then.”

Deborah didn’t bother with her knickers but let her skirt fall, she wondered if he had noticed how wet she was, not that she didn’t feel punished. It was just what she needed after all, on so many levels. At the door she glanced back her eyes held by the slipper on his desk.

“Thanks Tom,” she whispered.

*

The two bare bottoms were side-by-side over the scroll arm of the padded leather bench. Tom moved behind them bracing the cane between his fingers.

They had really done it this time and he was about to give them a lesson they would never forget.

Over recent months Deborah had averaged a spanking every three or four weeks, about twice as often as Cassidy. But then Cassidy hid half of what she did and Deborah usually fessed up at the least challenge.

Deborah had got no better at taking a spanking and positively went silly when she got the taws. But that never seemed to deter her quest to be submissive.

Tom looked at the two bottoms and compared the high tight roundness of Cassidy to Deborah’s defined but fuller womanish behind.

This was the second time they had been punished together and Deborah’s first with the cane. Sets of six he thought, as he lined up for the first swipe. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Ends.