(c) 2007 by Jefesse
"Pull down your pants and panties and bend over my lap! You are going to get your bottom blistered!"
"Oh, please! Not on the bare! It's so embarrassing," she cried.
"Oh, come on now. I think you know you have this coming to you. Don't tell me you don't think you deserve this."
"No, sir," she replied meekly. "I know I deserve to be punished for what I did. But please sir, can I keep my panties on? It's so embarrassing. I'm not a little kid anymore." She stamped her feet petulantly.
"No! You know the rules. Spankings in this house are always given bare bottom. As long as you live under my roof, you can expect to be spanked whenever I feel it is needed. I expect you to submit to punishment without complaint. Now get your backside over my knees this instant, or you'll find out how a strap across your backside feels."
She sighed. She knew that there was no getting out of it. Even though she was almost eighteen years old and had just begun her senior year in high-school only a few weeks before, her daddy punished her the same way he had when she was eight. She slowly unbuttoned her jeans and then with as little wriggling as she could manage, slid them down over her hips. She carefully bent over and pushed them all the way down to her ankles, for she knew that was where her father expected them to be. As she did this she turned demurely to the side, so that her father would not be looking directly at her backside. It was, she knew, a pointless attempt to protect her modesty, but she could not help herself.
She paused for a moment to steel her nerve. Then she went to her father's side and gently lowered herself across her father's lap. Her father murmured softly, "Forward a bit dear," and she obliged him, nudging her slim body ahead a few inches. Her bare bottom was now perfectly positioned under his right hand, ready to receive the full force of the punishment that would be delivered to it.
It was a punishment that she knew full well that she deserved. Though she had protested a little bit, she had done so only to protect her wounded pride. She had had long ago realized that, though she hated to be spanked, she could accept the fact that her father used spanking as punishment. Indeed, it seemed to her that being spanked was not really any worse than other punishments, like being grounded or losing privileges. In any case, her father only reserved spanking for the most serious offenses, and was always fair about it. He never spanked in the heat of anger, and always gave her a chance to present her case. And she was a young woman with conscience, who knew that there were times when you deserved to be punished, and that you should take what was coming to you.
But it was hard to be so accepting when you were face down over daddy's knee, half naked and about to be spanked. She ducked her head and peered back through the chair-legs at the bunched up pants hiding her feet. She blushed involuntarily thinking of the view her father must have. Of course, he had often seen her naked, and she was not usually shy about her own body. But an imminent spanking always made her nervous. She shivered.
He must have felt her nervousness. "Are you ready, dear? Are you okay." She was jolted out of reverie. "Um, yes, daddy." Her father's concern made her feel a bit guilty of the way she had tried to resist earlier, weakly though she had done so. She peered up over her shoulder and looked at her dad out of the corner of her eye. "Daddy, I really do realize that what I did was wrong, and feel very ashamed of myself right now. I'm so sorry ... I hope you don't hate me for it!" She sobbed a little.
"Oh, princess! You know I love you more than anything. I'm upset, at you, you know, but that doesn't change the fact that you are my darling little girl."
She sobbed some more, though she was glad that her father could still so easily say he loved her, despite how angry he must be.
Her father was touched, and said, "We don't have to do this right now if you're not up to it."
Her heart leaped for a brief moment at the thought that she might delay her punishment, or perhaps avoid it entirely. She could probably make it happen, if she really turned the tears on and put on a good show; though he was strict, he had a soft heart. But she knew she would not do this. It would be wrong to trick her father that way, and her conscience would never let her forget that she still needed to pay for what she had done.
She tried to get her sobbing under control, and then turned again over her shoulder, and said, "Daddy, lets get this over with. We both know I've got a hard spanking coming to me, so don't feel sorry for me." She swallowed. "And don't go easy on me. You know I can take a severe punishment, and I really want you to see how sorry I am." She tried to sound resolute, though she could not quite prevent her voice from quavering. "I'm ready."
He was touched by her contrition, but could not think of anything else to say. So he just got on with it.
"Very well, then. I am going to give you a sound spanking, as hard and as long as you have ever been spanked before. It is going to hurt. Before I begin, I'd like you to take a moment to reflect on what you did to deserve this." The were a few seconds of silence, and she really did take a moment to remind herself what she had done.
"Okay. As you know, you are not to get out of position. Failure to remain in place means the strap. Get ready."
A few more seconds of silence, and then he brought his palm down sharply on her right buttock. He lifted it, and a couple of seconds later delivered a sharp spank to her left buttock. He continued to smack her bottom at a slow and steady pace, alternating cheeks. She found it easy to endure at first, but she knew that feeling would not last for long. After the first dozen, the force of the spanks increased to a good whallop, and though the pace remained the same, the effect of the repeated smacks began to build up, and she began to whince and softly moan at each stroke.
Her legs began to involuntarily jerk after each spank; she tried hard to keep her legs under control, for she knew that if she started kicking her feet back far enough to interfere with the spanks, dad would see it as "resisting". It had only happened a couple of times that she had "resisted" enough to get dad mad, but they were memorable occasions. Each time he had stood her up, bent her over the chair, taken off his belt, and delivered a couple dozen strokes to her bottom and the backs of her thighs, as fast and as hard as she could. Then back over his lap for the rest of the spanking!
