Chapter 7

Harold checked his watch as Heather walked in the door. He was surprised at how much he'd missed having her around all day. He'd allowed her to spend the day over at Lynn's house. He never would have guessed he'd actually want her around.

"Heather, what time is it?"

"I know Daddy, I'm late. I'm sorry. Lynn's Dad wanted us to clean up her room, and it took longer than I thought; I lost track of time."

"And you didn't think of calling? You did have your cell phone, right?" Harold demanded.

"I forgot to charge it, I'm sorry."

"Do I need to take the phone away again? If you're going to be allowed to have one, you can't turn it off when you're away, or let it charge down. I need to be able to get hold of you."

Heather approached her father, and put her arms around his neck. "Please don't take it away, Daddy. I promise I'll do better. Please."

"I can't let this go unpunished," Harold told her.

"I know Daddy, and you're right. Can you punish me later?"

"Later?"

"I'm still a little sore from this afternoon," Heather admitted.

"Take your shorts off, little girl." Harold commanded.

"Off?" she asked, hesitantly, as she worked the tight jean shorts down her body, exposing her thong underwear.

"Blue Jeans are too much protection."

Harold sat in the middle of the couch and his only child laid across his lap. She hung one leg off the couch, as the other stretched along the length of it, spreading her legs wide open.

Harold spanked her diligently, more forcefully then he had been lately. "I've got to really make sure you remember dear. The phone is your lifeline to me. You need to have it available." His first dozen strokes traumatized her still tender cheeks. This was the worse yet.

"Oh, Daddy, please, not so hard, it hurts!" Heather cried out, the sound of his open hand smacking her fair skin echoing off the walls. She kept reaching back to cover her butt with her hands, and he grabbed them, crossed their wrists, and held them tight while he smacked her even harder.

"If you fight me, it just gets worse," Harold warned her.

Harold eased back, admiring his handiwork, her ass nice and pink. He took his time, smacking her firmly now and then, but in between caressing her ass and squeezing it. His blows were all over the place, on her ass cheeks, on the back of her thighs, a few even falling on her womanhood. For several long minutes he spanked her.

"Please, Daddy, please, it hurts too much," Heather cried, sobbing.

Harold massaged her ass, while he explained himself. "Heather, you are being punished for three things, you understand that?"

Her words skipped between her sobbing, "I-I-I guess, so-o."

He smacked her hard, making her cry out. "One. You were late."

"I'm sorry!"

"Two you didn't call," Harold continued, smacking her other cheek equally hard. It stung his hand.

"Ow! Daddy!" Heather cried out.

"Three, I couldn't reach you on your phone," Harold told her, smacking her firmly between her legs.

"I'll be good, I will!" Heather gasped, struggling to move away from the ceaseless strokes of his hand.

Harold continued to paddle her pussy, smacking her right across her swollen lips, using just his cupped fingers to punish her. She was squirming and writhing under his hands.

He released her hands, reached down and pulled her legs open even wider, then slid his fingers underneath her thong and pulled it aside, exposing her pink lips to his view. She was dripping, and his continued smacks on her pussy sounded obscenely wet and moistened his palm. Heather was sobbing, but her resistance had finally ceased, and she seemed to be pushing back against him now. He rested his hand on her mound letting the length of his finger settle between the lips. God, he was fondling his daughter's pussy! Pulling his hand slowly away, he let his finger momentarily slide within her lips, penetrating her for about half his finger length.