Chapter 7

After her father had left her room, Elizabeth wasted no time picking up her phone and calling Andrew's mobile which was answered after only two quick rings. "Elizabeth?" questioned her fiancée's voice. "What's going on?"

"My father found out that we'd been sleeping together," she replied honestly, "and now he's threatening to get us married off as quickly as possible."

"My old man's saying the same thing, pet. Not that it worries me - I mean, we were going to be married at some point anyway, so what difference does the timing matter?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment being careful to come up with an answer that didn't antagonise Andrew. "Well, that's true I suppose, but I wanted a full church affair at the Abbey. This way it'll be just a few relatives round at some crummy registry office..."

"I see what you mean, pet. Well, we'll just have use our charms and see if we can get our father's to rethink matters, won't we?"

Elizabeth tried to sound more cheerful than she felt as she agreed and then hung up. Andrew was sweet but she wasn't at all sure that she wanted to live the rest of her life with him. Although, it had to be said, with him as a husband, she'd never want for material things...

A gentle tap at the door interrupted her thoughts and she clambered off the bed before crossing the room to open it only to find her father stood outside, a small, white pot jar in his hand. "Are you still sore, Elizabeth?" he asked softly. Before him his daughter nodded and agreed that she was. "Well, this cream should make you feel better," he went on. "It just needs rubbing in."

"Well, thank you, father," replied Elizabeth, holding out a hand and puzzling why her old man was now being so nice to her when only half and hour before he'd been having her smacked by her mother while he'd been planning her arranged wedding. "I'll use it straight away."

For a moment her father seemed lost for words but he finally found his tongue. "Why don't you let me do it for you? It would be so difficult for you to do on your own."

Recoiling at the realisation of what her own father was talking about sent Elizabeth's mind into a spin. On the one hand, what he was proposing totally revolted her but, on the other hand, it would give her something she could use to try to get this wedding delayed. Standing away from the door, she gestured for him to enter the room and, after glancing up and down the corridor to make sure that his activities were unseen, he did so, closing the door behind him. Elizabeth crossed over to her bed and clambered onto it, face down, and the pulled the hem of her dressing gown up around her waist. Beneath this she was still wearing her thong but since the crack of her arse had eaten most of the material,, she might have well have been naked for all the coverage it provided. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, her father took in the sight spread out before him and inside his trousers, his penis began to respond. For a long time he'd watched his daughter mature into womanhood and for almost as long he'd lusted after her. He wasn't a paedophile but once she'd passed her sixteenth birthday, he'd held lavasious thoughts about her and he'd taken every opportunity to observe Elizabeth as she'd matured. And now he was about to really get to touch her... as long as his interfering wife didn't stumble along and spoil things for him, that was!

Daubing some cream onto his fingers, he reached out towards his daughter's firm bottom... and then he paused. Was it right what he was about to do? Should he go ahead? His conscience said 'no', his hormones disagreed. But what harm could it do? He was only going to rub some cream onto her sore flesh, now wasn't he? His mind now made up, Philip began to work the cream into his daughter's buttocks...

Below him, Elizabeth sighed for the cream was really very effective and it almost miraculously eased the burning that she was suffering from. "Is that good?" he father asked her and she nodded. "Yes, it's a special formula made just..." his voice trailed off.

"Made just for this purpose?" Elizabeth asked.

Above her, her father nodded gently but his hands never slowed in their ministrations to her arse. "Is it for mother? Do you beat her often, daddy?"

Again her father nodded. "Yes, sometimes your mother needs a little... correction. As do all women. I will, of course, be advising that Andrew invests in some cream and the tool of punishment of his choice."

Elizabeth chuckled at the thought of sweet Andrew having the balls to try to beat her - it was just absurd! Almost as if he was reading her mind, Philip went on, "But until you are married you are my responsibility and, I think, it's time that I trained... er, I mean, educated you some more. You clearly need a firm hand, young lady, as you are rather out of control."

"Yes, daddy," Elizabeth replied dreamily as she almost started to enjoy what was being done to her. If only it wasn't her father who was doing it, it would be truly wonderful! "Actually, father," she went on, "I was wondering if..."

Suddenly Elizabeth stopped what she was saying and her eyes shot open for her father's hand had now slipped down between her legs and was caressing something rather intimate through the thin material at the front of her thong.

Deeply enjoying what he was doing, Philip nevertheless instantly realised by his daughter's reaction that he'd gone too far too fast and he pulled his hand back and stood. "Well," he muttered trying to cover himself, "that seems to have done the trick... I'll be off now then. Goodnight darling..."

"Goodnight, daddy," replied a rather confused Elizabeth as her father strode from the room and she pulled her gown down again.

Later that same evening, Elizabeth stood outside Master Sam's flat and rang the doorbell. This time she wasn't going to make the same mistakes as she had previously and she had waited for a text message from him before setting out. She was also dressed in a short skirt and a boob tube with nothing beneath either garment and her collar was in place. After a few moments the door was opened by Mabel who, much to Elizabeth's surprise, was dressed in her work uniform. Seeing the look on Liz's face, the guard explained that she would be leaving soon as she was on the night shift. "Ten hours alone in there," Mabel muttered. "Ten, long boring hours each night for the rest of the week."

"Tough fucking titty," smirked Liz unable to feel any sympathy for her tormentor and earning a snarl for her comment from the other woman.