Chapter 3: Some Revelations

Gemma's thoughtful mood continued over the weekend and into the next week. She did not go out but stayed in her room most of the time. Gemma's thoughtful mood consisted, publicly, of being uncommunicative and surly but it at least she wasn't getting up to God-knows-what so it was an improvement in a way. Late in the week she seemed to come to some sort of a decision.

"Dad, can we have a talk?"

I looked up from my paper in surprise. "Sure. Sit down."

Gemma blushed but her face was serious. "No, in private."

I glanced at the kitchen where Marion was busy. "Okay. Let's go for a walk. That suit you?"

She nodded. I stuck my head round the kitchen door. "Gemma and I are just popping out for a while."

"Don't be long. Supper's at six."

I waved acknowledgement. Gemma and I walked in silence for a while. Without thinking about it we went to the local park and found a bench in a more out-of-the-way spot. Gemma pulled her jacket tightly around her. It wasn't particularly warm and there was a chill in the breeze.

"What's on your mind, sport?" I asked gently.

She shuffled around not meeting my eye. It was clear she was embarrassed and didn't quite know how to begin. As I didn't know what she wanted to talk about, I couldn't help her.

"We don't talk much, do we, Dad."

"No we don't. I'd like to, though."

"This is very difficult. I don't really know how to talk to you."

"How about you just say what you want in any way you want?"

"You won't get angry or cross?"

"I promise." She glanced up uncertainly. "Sweetheart, if I want to talk to you more I need to be prepared to listen to you. Just as you need to listen to me. I promise, whatever you say, I won't throw a fit, shout and bawl or make a scene."

She gave a lop-sided grin. "I suppose I'm not good at listening either."

"Then we'll listen together. Deal?"

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "It's about that place - the Slipper Club." She glanced up to see my reaction. I was careful to look both interested and concerned. "I need to tell you some things. First, I've stopped seeing those people you don't like. That's why I've been around more. I haven't made any other friends yet."

I was overjoyed but took care not to show it. "Can I ask you a question?" She nodded. "Why did you stop seeing them?"

She paused, her face thoughtful. "Two things mainly. The first was that list. You know, the one you read out to me that first day? It sounded so terrible, the things they'd done. The second was the newspaper article about Andy English being arrested. He had his eighteenth just after you took me to the club. I went to his party. Then I remembered what that man at the club said about going to prison as soon as they turned eighteen and it brought it all home to me, what you'd said about me ending up the same way. Andy was a cool guy, a great laugh, always up for anything and scared of nothing and nobody. It was quite a shock." She looked up at me with a glint of tears in her eyes.

I nodded sympathetically. "I understand. Something similar happened to me. There was a guy at school - I didn't know him very well but I sort of looked up to him - he was the adventurous type; played rugby, climbed mountains, canoed, that sort of thing. Always doing something exciting. Soon after he left school I heard he'd been killed in an avalanche while skiing. It was a shock. He's always seemed, well, invulnerable, if you know what I mean."

She nodded. "That's how I felt about Andy."

"Can I ask you something else? This is a bit difficult so I'm just going to be blunt. What do you feel about the spankings?"

She went scarlet. "I was coming to that."

"Okay, let me put it another way. Say I had read out that list and shown you the article, without the spankings. How would you have reacted? Please be honest."

"Oh." Her eyes grew round. "I hadn't thought about that."

"Can I say what I think you'd have done? I think you'd have ignored me. I think you'd have thrown a tantrum and called me a miserable old fart or something worse and refused to listen. Is that fair?"

She opened her mouth to object then stopped and blushed again. "Yes. I hate to say it but you're right." She gave a brief grin. "I hate it when you're right. It goes against the grain."

I grinned back. "It's one of the functions of fathers to be right and one of the functions of daughters to resent it."

She sighed. "Okay, I confess if it hadn't been for the spankings I wouldn't have listened to you. They've sort of forced me to pay attention. Kind of a drastic way of doing it, though."

I nodded soberly. "It was, but I couldn't think of any other way of getting your attention. I really didn't want to do it. Ask Felix. I nearly chickened out several times."

"I still hate you for that but I'm coming to understand why you did it."

I clasped her hands in mine. "You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that. I think we can cancel our membership as of now."

"What? You mean not go back?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yes. You see I joined the Slipper Club for a purpose. That purpose was to get my daughter back from whatever strange and dangerous place she had gone. Today you've come back. Oh, we've a lot of catching up to do and I have to work as hard at it as you. But, yes, I think the club has served its purpose and we can stop going." I noticed the look on her face and stopped. "What's the matter, dear?"

She went bright red and studied at the ground. "Shit. This is embarrassing." She looked up and took a deep breath. "Iwouldn'tmindgoingbackifyouwantto," she said all in one word.

I stared at her inanely until my brain kicked into gear and I unravelled her statement. "Oh." It was my turn to be embarrassed. "Let me get this straight; you really wouldn't mind continuing our sessions?"

"That's what I said." Her tone was surly.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm just a dumb old dad and I need to understand."

She flashed me a quick, embarrassed smile. "You're not dumb."

I grinned. "But I am old, right? Care to tell me why?" I had my suspicions but I wanted to see if she would tell me.

She shook her head. "I can't."

"That's okay. I understand." I squeezed her hands which I still had hold of. "I think there's someone you need to talk to."

"I'd be too embarrassed to talk to a stranger. I can't even talk to you."

"It's not a stranger, it's Hazel Wilkins."

"But what's she got to do with it? Do you mean... ?" Her eyes grew round. "D'you mean that Hazel and her dad... ? But how... ? What... ?"

"I'm not going to say any more. Hazel will explain it all much better than I. I'll see if she can come over tomorrow."

"Well, if you're sure. It's just..."

"Trust me. From now on we're going to be open with each other. I'm not leading you on or lying to you. Please just talk to Hazel."

"Well, okay. If you say so."

"Thank you, Gemma. Now, let's go home and get some tea."

Some watershed had been crossed, some barrier in our relationship broached. I felt much happier than I had done for several months and I think Gemma felt the same.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Hazel came round after school the next day and the girls closeted themselves in Gemma's room. They were still there when I came home from work.

"What's with these two?" Marion asked. "They've been up there for hours. They've never been very friendly before."

"I've no idea," I shrugged. "You know what girls are like. Perhaps we should invite Hazel for tea."

Hazel turned the offer down and rushed off in a great hurry when she realised what the time was. Gemma seemed quite excited. Whatever they had discussed had pleased her mightily.

It was Marion's evening class and, no sooner had the car left the driveway, than Gemma came rushing down the stairs.

"We have to talk," she announced throwing herself into a chair.

"What? Twice in one week? Isn't that overdoing it a bit?" I teased.

"Oh, pooh. Hazel's told me everything."

"About?" I said, suddenly cautious.

"About the Slipper Club. About what really goes on there. About Henry. About everything."

"Oh. She told you about Henry? All about Henry?"

"Yes. It seemed a bit gross at first but she really likes him and he gives her a really good time." She giggled. "He sounds like a sugar daddy."

"I suppose that's quite a good description of him."

"Then we can go?"

"I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

She stood and, hands on hips and looked down at me with a rebellious pout. I studied her as if seeing her for the first time. In a way I was. She had always been my little girl and, even though I was aware of her growing up, I still thought of her as a girl. Suddenly I was being forced to revaluate my mental image of her; to think of her as almost a woman. Seeing her standing there I was reminded of Marion. She had the same colouring, the same hair and was developing a figure that would, one day, rival her mother's. She had my build, though, sort of long and wiry. All in all, I realised with a start, she was a very attractive girl. A mental image of her bent over my knee dressed only in a pair of flimsy panties flashed through my mind. I felt the first stirrings in my groin and flushed in guilty embarrassment.

"Why are you staring at me like that, Dad?"

"Hmm. Sorry, dear. I wasn't really staring. I'm just being dumb old dad again."

"You're not that old," she giggled.

"But I am dumb, right? Tell you what, we'll go on Thursday and have a talk to Felix and Bea and see what the set-up is. That okay with you?"

"I'm cool with that."

She bounced out and I sunk back in my chair. I was getting too old for these emotional upheavals. First there had been the decision as to whether to spank her and now I was being forced to regard her as a woman; a sexual being. I tried to picture her objectively, as others might see her. It was hard as images of her as my little girl kept intruding. I thought of her school friends, mentally comparing them. There was no doubt that Gemma stacked up well. I had to admit it, she was a very attractive young lady. I felt my cock stir again. Oh, no. I couldn't be getting aroused thinking of my daughter, could I?

I raised the topic with Marion. "Tell me. Is Gemma attractive?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is she attractive? To boys, for example?"

She laughed. "Gerry, where have you been? Of course she is. She's a regular knockout. You should see the looks she gets - and not just from boys. When we're out I like to pretend some of them are for me. And Connie's going to be just the same."

I grinned. "A lot of them will be for you. The girls take after their mother."

"What brought this on?"

"It was just something she said."

Marion looked at me shrewdly. "Is it connected with these mysterious classes you go to?"

I tried to keep a straight face. "Yes. They're heavy going - it's like a sort of therapy. I have to work as hard as Gemma."

"They seem to be working. You're much more relaxed than you were and you two seem to be getting along much better."

"Er, yes, I do feel more relaxed. And Gemma's behaviour has improved hasn't it?"

"I told you it was a phase she'd grow out of."

I smiled inwardly. "Yes, dear."

Later that night, while Marion and I were making love, I had a sudden image that it was Gemma I was screwing, not her mother. It lasted only an instant but it shocked me to the core. I was beginning to have serious doubts about the wisdom of continuing our membership of the Slipper Club. It seemed to be leading down dangerous and slippery paths.