“I’ve been ever so naughty,” Clare said, biting her thumb as she stood gangling nervously in the doorway.

Jackson folded his arms sternly and shook his head. The cute coy she employed in fess-up mode was usually a distraction form something more serious.

“Ah-huh,” he said balefully as he peered over his reading specs.

“I-I I eh… I kind of…” she pulled some reddish brown hair from both sides of her face like a curtain to hide it.

“Kind of, or did?” Jackson growled.

“Did what?” Clare said in surprise.

Jackson sighed and took off his glasses. The warning look he gave her was razor sharp.

“Oh that… well I haven’t told you yet,” she spluttered.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” he scolded.

Clare swallowed and ducked her head. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

He waited while she looked anywhere but at him.

“Well?” he barked and made her jerk.

“I am trying,” she replied impatiently and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me,” he said sharply.

“B-but, but, but…” she whispered with girlishly reluctance.

“What did you do?” Jackson asked, each word a command and distinct.

Clare swallowed and risked looking at him before resorting to a dumb insolent lip-bite.

Jackson sighed and stood up. In two strides he had her and she was tumbled hapless across his lap.

“Oh come on,” she wailed as he yanked her knickers down from under her now raised skirt and bared her bottom.

“I am going to ask you one more time,” he said firmly, annunciating every word. “What the hell did you do now?”

“I scratched the paint on the car,” she blurted.

He winced.

“I kind of reversed into a car at Sainsbury’s, you know, I was backing out and I didn’t see it,” she finished feebly.

“Are you oaky?” he asked suddenly and drawing her up to sitting on his lap.

She nodded and he hugged her.

“Are you still going to spank me?” she mumbled.

“What do you think?” Jackson said.

“I guess I deserve it,” Clare said ruefully.

“That and about half an hour in the corner,” he scolded.

She nodded sheepishly.

This time he placed her carefully across his lap and patted her nude bottom. She gasped.

“Sorry,” she said in a baby voice so that it came out “Sowwee.”

He spanked her hard across both curves and she squealed, her lips crossing in a rueful diagonal regret. The crisp crack felt tangy and fresh and left a red patch on her behind. He spanked her again.

It took a while and by the end her bottom held a cherry sheen and she was making little hiccoughing gasps as she swallowed air.

“I have a good mind to…” he growled but then he saw her tearful little face peering up at him with the sorriest expression. “Okay baby,” he soothed and gave her a little hug, “Into the corner now.”

“Ooh,” she protested, but only verbally as she reluctantly tottered over to the corner of the lounge.

She hadn’t been there for five minutes when the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Clare said in a tone of hopeful cheekiness.

“You stay there,” Jackson growled.

Clare made to pout and stamped her foot.

“Hello,” she heard Jackson say in a bright voice as he answered. Then, “Ah-ha… yes, that’s right, um…” and then a whole string of acknowledging grunts. “Just a minute, the car, it has a scratch on the paint doesn’t it?”

Clare winced, her face screwed up in expectant dismay.

“What do you mean…’you could say that’?” Jackson asked sharply to the voice on the phone. “What!?… okay, yes thank you.” He sighed.

The room went quiet and Clare waited.

“Clare,” Jackson finally roared, “When you said the paint was scratched…”

“Well, it was scratched, as far as I could tell under all that damage,” she said defensively and made a pout.

“I see,” he sighed, “One more question…”

“Um… yes,” she squeaked nervously.

“Where is the hairbrush?”