Our story begins here.

The Army had been a good life for her, but after three years, she knew she was never going to break the mould and be the British Army’s first woman combat officer. Also as much as the realisation hurt, John wasn’t going to give up the Army for her, so it was his career or hers and life without him would have been unthinkable. So without even making captain, she took the three year option and resigned.

To celebrate, she had gone on the razz with some of the girls a wild little shindig that had begun at Dixie’s Bar and ended with her father’s car sitting in the middle of the roundabout just outside Andover.

The girl driving would probably lose her license, but Ann seemed to remember that at some point she had also taken a turn and had not been entirely sober at the time.

“You’re 24 not 14,” he father had bellowed. “When will you grow up?”

“Look I’m sorry Daddy but I really don’t think…”

“Oh we are back to the not thinking again are we,” her father was furious.

“Look I’m sorry about the car, but it will be OK, John has already got someone…”

“The car,” her father was incandescent now, “I am not worried about the car. I am not even, for the moment anyway, worried about your reputation. You might have been killed. Only last week, three youths…” Her father bit down on his lower lip and appeared to choke on the words.

Taking advantage of the break in her father’s tirade she broke in with, “I am not some boy on a…” She rolled her eyes; it had been one last hurrah not a joyride.

“No, no that’s exactly…” He was purple now and paused to wipe some spittle from his mouth. Then more calmly he said, “that is exactly my point. What were you thinking? I ought to blister your backside raw.”

“Daddy, don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Well if he doesn’t, then I am going to.” John’s voice seized the room behind her and she froze.

“John,” she said in surprise and grasped her heart. “You’re back… how was it?”

“Never mind the car, we have some serious talking to do; all three of us. I think our Ann here as a serious lesson coming to her and if you won’t do it then I will,” he said continuing his theme.

“Be my guest,” Father said throwing up his arms.

“John not in…” Ann gaped.

“May I borrow one of your canes Sir?” John cut in, ignoring her.

“Oh you know about those,” Father chuckled turning to a cabinet behind him. With a slow deliberate movement Ann’s father slid back the cabinet doors to reveal an impressive array of modern and antique canes. “Most of these have never been used, not on Ann anyway,” he said and then with a shrug added, “A strange hobby, I know.”

Ann went a little white and silently worked her mouth, “look now if you think…”

“You’re not too old for a spanking my girl,” Father growled and then eyeing his canes he added “although maybe you are a little tough for one.”

Ann swallowed and exchanged looks with John. He had certainly proved over and over that he didn’t regard her as too old to be spanked. Not that she always minded so much. However her experience of one of his canings kept her genuinely apprehensive and to have even the suggestion of a punishment with her father in the room was beyond embarrassing.

“Come on… you’re not… I mean, you’re joking right?” Ann wished she believed that as her father made an expansive gesture at the cane rack and then stepped out of John’s way.

Walking forward John removed the military grade cane and one of the larger dragon canes from the cabinet and appeared to weigh them up.

“There is no way…” Ann blushed as she backed away and then turned for the door.

“Oh dear,” John sighed putting the canes down on the desk and with three easy strides closing the gap between him and Ann.

“Daddy please, you can’t let him,” Ann wailed as John took her arm and led her to an empty chair. Sitting down he pulled a half struggling Ann over his lap and swatted the seat of her knee-length loose floral skirt.

“Stop it you bastard,” she squealed as John swatted down again even harder. “Please John, Mrs Hart, she’ll hear us.”

“Hear us? By the time I’m through she might just get to see as well,” John growled flipping up her skirt to expose her high-cut briefs.

“It wouldn’t be the first time Mrs Hart and her daughter has seen you catch it,” Ann’s father chuckled.

Ann’s eyes went wide and she felt her ears melt. Mrs Hart’s daughter Catherine was home from college, she might even be in the house. “Please Daddy, please…” the last word ended in a squeal as her knickers went south.

“Oh dear,” her father muttered as he turned away, “you never seem to learn Ann.”

John landed a fast hard volley of spanks onto Ann’s bottom, which extracted more angry yelps than usual on account of the public nature of her spanking.

“I am going to give you a spanking you’ll never forget and then you are going to apologise to your father and ask me nicely to give you the caning you deserve,” John said forcefully spanking her again.

“What… if you… ow… ouch, John… Please… yah,” Ann went from indignant to out and out panic in a moment.

“Well? Make your mind up,” John threatened putting some weight behind his hand.

“John please,” Ann wailed, but she knew she was defeated.

Tipping her forward so that her head was nearer the floor, John tucked one leg around Ann’s, elevating her bottom. Then he let his arm fall heavily several times spanking her until the sting began to trouble the palm of his hand.

Ann responded with threats and pleadings by turn until her bottom was a definite shade of red.

“Do you have something to say?” John rasped insistently.

“Please John, I’m sorry.”

“Ann,” John bent low to growl in her ear.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” she said in meek voice.

“And?” John pushed her.

“Please John, haven’t you…?”

“Ann,” John snapped.

Ann hugged into John’s leg and tried to recover her breath while John menaced her flaming bottom with his hand. Ann’s father was astonished at the transformation and stifled a chuckle with his hand.

“Please,” Ann swallowed and glanced angrily around at her father, “John, will you… cane me.” The last part was whispered.

“Ann,” John said in a warning tone adding another spank to her bare bottom.

“As I deserve,” Ann added barely audibly.

“We can’t hear you,” John said trying not to laugh.

“Please cane me as I deserve,” Ann said woodenly and hoped John wouldn’t think she was being sullen. Her face was as hot as her bottom as she spoke.

John released her at once. “Bring me a cane from the desk.”

Ann tucked her chin onto her chest and clutched at her front. The cane choice was diabolical. It was no choice at all. Without waiting she snatched up the dragon cane and extended her arm to offer it to John without turning around.

“Now bend over the chair,” John ordered, flexing the cane between the fingers of both hands.

Ann raised her head and fixed her attention on the chair. Then with what was left of her bravado, she walked briskly forward and dipped over the back of the padded leather. She knew what was required and before John could speak, she shuffled forward and worked her read right down so that her bare bottom was properly elevated.

“Good girl,” John said swishing the cane through the air.

Ann fumed at the comment as she clamped her legs together.

John looked at Ann’s father and saw him nod slightly, so he took up his position behind his future wife and sized up her reddened curves as he tapped her with the cane.

The first stroke would have sent her upright, but she was bent too far over. She growled angrily as the pain sawed in.

John didn’t wait and sliced in with slow even strokes that extracted ever greater distress from Ann until she broke to tears.

Ann pounded on the seat of the chair as she yelled and tried to claw her way out of the punishment, but John did not relent until he had delivered a solid two dozen strokes to her bottom.

“Now apologise properly to your father,” John said finally.

Ann half hugged the chair and half supported herself with it as she stood up. One hand clutched at her seared bottom and it was all she could do not to dance like a kid around the room holding her bottom in earnest.

After a moment she abandoned any pretence at dignity and began to sob. “Daddy I’m sorry,” she wailed, “I’m really sorry.” But it was John she ran to for a hug.

“You know when she was younger a spell in the corner always made sure a true apology took,” her father suggested archly.

Ann took half a step away from John and tried to read him. Her eyes darted rapidly and pleaded with him for it to be over, but she knew better than to speak.

“Where would you suggest sir?” John said evenly, not taking his eyes off of Ann.

“I think the corner in the kitchen should prove most edifying,” Father said.

“I won’t…” Ann spluttered, but was stopped from saying more with one raised eyebrow from John. “Oh…” She stamped her foot.

Two minutes later, Ann was led sheepishly into the kitchen with her skirt bunched up in the small of her back with one hand and holding her knickers up at her knees with the other. She was led over to the corner, where she let go of her underwear to ensure her skirt didn’t fall with both hands. John had promised her another dozen in front of Mrs Hart if on inch of her punished bottom was covered by her skirts.

Mrs Hart’s daughter hugged herself with glee, “classic,” the 19-year-old giggled.

“Shush,” Mrs Hart scolded, but a smile touched her lips as she said it.

To be continued…