Daddy

07Jul15

daddyJane was on her knees and trying to reach her phone. It had fallen from her bag as she stepped from the car and had now annoyingly bounced under the hedge just out of reach. Normally it wouldn’t have mattered; she could just have called Daddy to get it for her.

Daddy had big long arms and he was good at taking care of her, but today there was a tiny weeny problem with that. Daddy had confiscated her phone two days before and she was grounded. Not grounded from going to work, not grounded from going shopping, although she was banned from the mall. She was just supposed not to go out once she got in from the office or, and here was the real hardship, she was banned from using her phone.

Jane grunted as she strained to reach the little metallic box so tantalisingly just out of reach. The motion made her big bottom stick-up to strain at her pinstripe business trousers in the most undignified way possible.

“Come on you little shitter,” she grumbled angrily, spitting a mouthful of long red hair in the process.

“Having trouble there?” a masculine voice rumbled.

Jane winced and closed her eyes. Maybe she had imagined him, she hoped.

“Jane? What are you doing there?” Daddy asked again.

She opened one eye and made to chew her lip. Daddy was almost 15 years older than her, and at times like this he looked it and made her feel 12. He was standing by the path now with his big arms folded and wearing his serious, but not yet cross face as he stared down at her from under his big bushy grey eyebrows.

“I….” Jane grinned nervously, the smile not reaching her eyes, which imitated panicked hazel saucers as they stared back at him.

Daddy frowned, he knew that expression and now he smelled a rat. He dropped to a crouch to see what she was reaching for. Jane could see him squinting as he tried to make the object out and she realised her wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said hastily, “I dropped some change.”

Daddy gave her the look and reached into his pocket for her doom; her doom this time being his glasses, which he now perched on his nose so that he could peer into the gloomy under hedge.

“Change is it?” he growled. “It looks remarkably like… like your phone,” he added in surprise.

“I can explain,” Jane said hastily and gulped.

Daddy reached for the offending phone easily and retrieved it. Then slowly he gained his feet and glared at her.

“Well?” he said sharply, peering down at her over his close-to spectacles.

Jane made a pout and then looked at her feet, which she kicked together as she shuffled.

“Okay, I can’t explain,” she mumbled, adding sullenly, “But it’s my phone.”

“Your phone that was locked in my desk drawer in the study,” he barked.

Jane jumped and made supper of her lower lip.

“I am so going to spank you,” he growled leaning in close. But his voice was a little too loud.

Jane gaped and looked around in horror. Maybe someone had heard him. To her left was the long high hedge leading to the house. Anyone could be on the other side, but the right was even more exposed and she eyed the neighbours’ house for signs of life.

“Not here,” she hissed.

“Are you arguing?” he gave that look.

“Noooo, but….” She gulped, a spanking was a certainty, getting a few swats on the front lawn was still avoidable.

Daddy pointed to the house and she ducked her head as she gave him a wide berth passing him. Once clear of his arms she scurried inside before he did anything embarrassing.

*

“So you decided to be defiant did you?” He said once he had followed her inside.

Jane rolled her eyes and made a tutting sound. It was her phone after all…

“Don’t you dare make that face at me,” Daddy said sharply. “You are in enough trouble as it is.”

Jane gulped and dipped her jaw to her chest so that only her sad eyes were upturned to him placating.

“Now go and fetch the hairbrush,” he sighed.

Jane danced in agitation and hugged herself. “No Daddy please, I’m sorry. I won’t…”

But his arm was straight and sharp like an arrow directing her to the stairs. Jane thought about the cane he had and how he if he had to fetch it she might get both the stick and the spanking.

“Oooh,” she wailed, “It is so not fair.”

By the time she got back with the hairbrush daddy was sitting in his favourite chair reading the papers. Jane stamped her foot, afraid that she had been forgotten.

Daddy glared at her over his reading specs and she quailed. Then he raised his arm like a summons and she tottered forward to hand the brush.

“Take your pants and trousers down and go to the corner,” he ordered her as he placed the hairbrush on the arm of his chair.

“Girls don’t wear pants,” she said sullenly.

He gave her that look again and she hastened to obey.

*

She felt silly now. There was a draft around her bare bottom and she knew he was watching her. She dared a peek over her shoulder but got her nose back to the wall as he looked up.

“Impatient are we?” he growled.

Jane blushed and tried to make herself small. Only that afternoon she was addressing a meeting of her junior staff. If they could only see her now… she blushed furiously.

“Come here,” he said at last.

Jane pouted and pretended not to hear him.

“I shall count to three, if you aren’t over here by then, you can stand there for another half an hour at least,” he told her.

She didn’t need telling twice. In a moment she was tugging her trousers to her knees and then half stumbled and half hopped across to his receiving arms. Daddy pulled her easily then, so that she tumble down and across his knee with her hair flowing like red sand onto the floor.

Daddy’s thighs were strong and hard under her. His firm hands cupped her bare bottom and gently squeezed.

“Tell me what you did wrong,” he said in a firm but gentle voice.

“I… I… I… I…” she swallowed like a landed fish as she struggled for air.

Daddy spanked her once and she gulped.

“I took my phone,” she whispered.

“And?”

“I-I told a little lie about it,” she said in a cheeky voice and offered him a pinch of her fingers.

Daddy’s hand smacked down and she squealed.

“Should you have done that,” he barked as he spanked her again.

“No Daddy,” she hissed.

“You’re a bad girl,” he said as he swatted her again.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” she wailed.

The spanking was short and sharp. But he only used his hand so she could bear it; for a little while anyway. But she knew her bottom was red and stingy.

“You know I have to keep your phone for another week now, don’t you?” he sighed.

Jane pouted but gave a miserable nod. Then she heard him take up the hairbrush and she sucked in a sharp breath.

There was a pause and she tensed. But it was a posture she couldn’t hold and she had to hug into him. This was his signal and the brush swatted down like a hot iron.

“Ooooh,” she wailed and kicked her legs.

He spanked her again and then after a few pain extracting swats began a long slow volley.

The spanking lasted an age and she kicked mewled along with each impact for what seemed forever.

“I’m sorry Daddy, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, although no true tears were shed, not yet. They rarely were from a spanking, only cane… she shuddered.

“What am I to do with you?” he said at last as the spanking slowed.

Jane sniffed and crawled into a hug on his lap.

“Whatever you want Daddy,” she cooed as she clung to him like treasure.



3 Responses to “Daddy”

  1. 1 George

    As usual a very loving Dad. The one all daughters badly need, as often as possible!

  2. 2 Mark

    Excellent as always.

    I find that a three-count usually gets a stubborn look until “two” and then a panicked flight to obey as options have been reviewed and time runs out.

    An eyebrow with a questioning “two and a half?” will break almost any girl’s anger, usually with a loud “Ahhh, I hate counting.”

  3. I agree withGeorge and Mark on what they said and liked the picture too.
    DeborahGIfford


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