Our daughter, Daisy, had not long turned sixteen and was at that age that all parents will remember with little fondness: surly, uncommunicative, rebellious, rude.

Recently it had been getting worse: it was as if she was testing me, trying to find my limits and, perhaps, to see what happened if she went beyond them.

Daisy was already partway through a two-week grounding for missing her ten-thirty curfew by a whole hour. It was a bit severe but I was also pretty sure that she wasn’t with her BFF Carol at all. I couldn’t prove it but I’d ramped up the punishment accordingly.

I went up to check on her and found her room was empty. As I searched the house I got angrier and angrier. I tried ringing her mobile but my calls went straight to voicemail. I texted her as well, telling her to call me, but got no response at all.

Colin was equally furious when I told him what she’d done but, when she still wasn’t home by eleven, I insisted he go to bed and that I would deal with it. When she finally rolled in, at about eleven forty-five, she didn’t even look embarrassed or remorseful, in fact, she looked positively defiant.

“Where have you been until this time? Why didn’t you answer my calls?” I demanded, in a voice still quiet but laced with steel.

“My phone ran out of juice,” she said angrily, as if daring me to prove otherwise. It wasn’t a sensible dare in the mood I was in.

“Show me.” I insisted and held out my hand. She looked furious at being called out.

“No. You’ll just have to take my word for it. I’m an adult now, you can’t keep me locked up like this.”

“You may be getting to be an adult but while you’re living under our roof you will obey our rules. Do you understand me?” Her mumbled reply was inaudible.

“Now go up to your room and get to bed,” I told her. “You’re grounded for another week.” She started to walk away.

“Fucking bitch.” I heard her say under her breath. If she pitched it to be below the level of hearing she got it dead wrong. The red mist came fully down and I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.

I got up, stalked over to her, grabbed her arm, and dragged her back to the couch. I sat down and pulled her, face down, over my knee.

“You will not talk to me like that in my own house.”

“You can’t do this!” she cried at the first slap. “Stop it, this is assault! I’m too old for this.”

After four very firm blows, I realized that all of her protests were about the indignity and that her skirt was protecting her. It was a short A-line corduroy number which was quite thick.

As I took hold of the bottom of the skirt I think she must have realized what I was doing.

“No, Mom, you can’t do that,” she said, and finally there was a hint of something other than defiance in her voice.

I lifted the skirt up.

Even in the rage I was in I couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous her bottom looked, barely covered as it was by the tiny pink panties she was wearing. She’s bought them for herself and I’d tried to ignore them when I came across them in the wash, but now there was no denying that they made her ass look wonderful.

Both cheeks had a slight pinkness to them which confirmed what I’d thought about the skirt softening my punishment.

The first slap after that made a satisfying noise and she squealed at the shock of it. A second followed to the other cheek.

“Mom, stop. Please stop,” she said, but it was a half-hearted plea now, and she put a hand back to try to cover herself. I grabbed that hand and looked on with some satisfaction as I saw two pink handprints appear on her cheeks.

For some reason I had it in my mind that ten would be a reasonable punishment but, with the earlier ones being so ineffectual, I gave her a total of fifteen. As it sank in that I was serious she began to wriggle on my lap, trying to avoid my blows but for the last five, she was strangely quiet and still.

As I lowered her skirt at the end I noticed a small dark patch on the crotch of her panties. ‘It could be anything’ I thought, ‘a stain, a little bit of wee leaked out’. I wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all myself. There was a distinct and unmistakable odor in the air.

When she stood up I was expecting tears and tantrums but she actually looked contrite.

“Sorry Mom,” she said in a tiny voice. “I’ll try to be better in future. Good night.” She bent down and kissed me softly on the lips and then left the room.

I was literally trembling as I sat there. The fury that I’d felt when she first got back and then sassed me, was gone and I knew now, without checking, that I had a matching wet patch on my own panties. I was also by no means certain how much of the smell of girl sex had been Daisy’s and how much was mine.

The palm of my hand was tingling madly and I couldn’t really imagine how Daisy’s bottom felt but I knew it must be intense.

When the red mist was down I’d managed to ignore it but, now it had faded away, there was no denying that I’d found the whole thing incredibly arousing. I hadn’t been this turned on since ... I couldn’t remember when.

I moved around in a daze tiding up and turning lights off, steadfastly ignoring my swollen clit and the urgent need I felt in my vagina that was begging to be satisfied.

I went up to go to bed and, as I passed Daisy’s room I thought I heard a low moaning coming from behind the closed door. It took all of my self-control not to put my head against the door and listen.

Colin was fast asleep and snoring quietly as I got myself ready on auto-pilot; my brain was still a foggy mess from confusion and horniness.

As I got into bed I lifted my nighty up and snuggled my naked ass against his body and then wriggled gently against him and smiled as I felt his cock begin to swell. I reached behind me and slipped his semi-hard cock out of the fly of his shorts and put it between my legs, and then closed them sighing deeply at the pressure that put on my pussy at last.

Now, when I rotated my hips against him, his rapidly hardening cock slid along my slit and my juices flowed liberally all over it. When it was nicely slippery I moved a little further and now it was rubbing gorgeously over my clit.

It was at that point that I think he woke up because his arm came around me to grope my breasts and pull on my aching nipples. He adjusted his position and I groaned as he entered me in one long, glorious stroke.

My fingers went to my clit and I managed to turn my head far enough to kiss him.

“Harder,” I growled into his mouth, and he increased his pace and I matched him, thrusting back at him in time with each lovely stroke.

I’m not sure I’d ever been so desperate to be fucked hard.

“Harder!” I repeated, and after a moment’s indecision, Colin forced me face down on the bed and fucked me so hard the bed shook. It was amazing, and my juices flowed all over my fingers as I came hard, screeching into the pillow and clutching at the bedclothes. I came again when he flooded my pussy with his cum and collapsed onto me kissing the back of my neck and giggling madly.

“Fuck Sheena, that was awesome,” he said when he could finally speak.

“Get off me you idiot, I can’t breathe,” I replied, but giggling along with him as I did.

He rolled off me and we held each other and kissed in a lovely sweaty embrace until I guess we fell asleep.

“That was a nice surprise,” he said, in the morning when we woke up. “and on a school night too!”

“Daisy didn’t get in until quarter to twelve last night,” I told him.

“Fuck.” he said quietly but resignedly.

“And, when I told her off, she was stroppy as hell and then she called me a ‘fucking bitch’!”

“What! Jesus! What did you say to that?”

“I spanked her,” I confessed. He looked surprised and shocked. “and when that didn’t seem to be working I lifted her skirt up and spanked her like that.”

“Is that why you ... you know ... last night?”

“I know. I’m a terrible mother.” I said, covering my eyes with my hand. “It turned me on so much.”

Then I lifted the bed covers and saw his erection.

“And you’re a terrible father.”

“I know.” he confessed. “do you want to go again?”

“Fuck yeah,” I replied with a filthy grin, and rolled onto my back with my legs spread wide.

The next day Daisy was as good as gold and for a while, we thought that her punishment had brought about some sort of miraculous change in her.

The following Friday though that all changed. Colin was caught up at work and hadn’t got home yet and I was in the lounge catching up on emails on my laptop.

Daisy came down made-up and dressed to the nines. I looked at her quizzically.

“Which part of grounded are you having trouble with?” I asked her sarcastically.

“There’s a party ... and I’m going,” she said, not quite stamping her foot but I thought it was close. “I can’t stay cooped up in this house another minute longer!”

“You should have thought about that before you called me ... before you said what you did,” I told her. “Go upstairs, wash your face, and put some sensible clothes on.”

She stormed out of the room and I couldn’t believe it when she headed for the front door rather than the stairs. I jumped up and ran after her, catching her with the door half open. I grabbed her by one wrist, slammed the door shut, and pulled her back towards the lounge while she struggled against me.

“You’ve asked for this.” I cried as I dragged her across my knees again. “Why won’t you learn!?”

When I exposed her ass again I couldn’t help but notice how lovely it was but again I forced myself to ignore it as I meted out her punishment.

After some initial fairly half-hearted protests Daisy again went mostly quiet with only the occasional whimper escaping her lips.

After twenty blows, each of which made her little ass quiver, I relented. Her cheeks were both bright red and I could feel the heat coming off them. I could also see moisture soaked into the gusset of her panties which hadn’t been there at the start; there was no doubt in my mind now: being spanked turned her on!

“Let that be a lesson to you,” I said, but very gently, and I couldn’t stop my hand from brushing over those pretty little rose-hued cheeks. “Go up to your room now please Daisy.”