Just two very short stories I wrote in the 80's.

1986 I am a 27 year old divorcee. Ever since I was a little girl my daddy would spank my bared bottom when I was bad. Dad is now 46 and also divorced from my mom.

Dad lives near by and often baby-sits for my five year old son when I have a date.

Last Friday night I went to, what turned out to be, a wild party, with some friends. I didn't leave the party until 4 a.m. I was still pretty drunk and not thinking straight. I went straight to dad's house to pick up my son. I rang the doorbell and dad answered after several rings. He was still in his striped pajamas and it was obvious I had wakened him.

He took one look at me and immediately pulled me in the door and dragged me, by the arm into the den, cautioning me not to make too much noise and wake up Johnny at 4:30 a.m.

He closed the den door and commenced to scold me like I was still 16 years old. "inconsiderate ... lousy mother ... slut ... little bitch" were just some of the words he used. "Look at yourself!" he yelled.

I looked into the full length mirror on the den door and shuddered. I must have still been pretty drunk when I had gotten dressed, after some casual sex in an upstairs bedroom at the party, and done a poor job of it. My grey skirt was unbuttoned far enough up the thigh to see most of my black panties and there were enough buttons on my blue blouse done up wrong or not buttoned at all to let anyone see that I wasn't wearing a bra.

"You might be 27 and a mother but you act like an irresponsible teenager and I'm going to treat you as such." Dad pointed to his overstuffed chair in the center of the room. I knew what that meant. While growing up I had spent considerable time laying over the back of that chair with my bottom bared for a spanking.

As drunk as I still was I knew I had done wrong and did not even try to argue with him. I staggered to the chair and, with my back to him, automatically undid the only button holding my skirt on and let it drop to the floor. I started to lay over the chair back when Dad spoke again "No, not like that. Just like when you were a little girl. Take down your panties."

I started to protest that I was a grown woman now, and not a little girl, and shouldn't have to remove my panties. He walked over to me and using his big, hard, calloused hand slapped me once on my nylon covered butt.

"Now!" was all he said.

Still facing away from him I complied and pulled my black nylon panties down 'till they fell around my ankles. I laid over the chair with my bare ass in a position that made it easier for dad to spank me.

I lay there feeling very humbled, embarrassed and humiliated. I felt very much like the bad little girl that dad said I was. I could hear him rummaging around in the closet for his "special" 4 inch wide black leather belt. I heard the closet door close and knew it was time for the whipping to begin.

I laid there for what seemed like an eternity knowing he was standing behind me with that hated belt in his hand, looking at my bare bottom. Dad never rushed a spanking. Whoosh! I could hear the belt coming. Whack!

The belt landed across both cheeks of my buns. It had been so long I had forgotten just how much that belt hurt. Three or four seconds went by then I heard it coming again. Whoosh! Whack! Even harder this time. I involuntarily raised up on my tip toes almost coming out of my high heels. Ten times that strap came down on my naked bottom before he stopped.

"That's it." was all he said. I stood slowly, most of my drunkenness beat out of me. I could see my reflection in the mirror. My buns had red stripes criss crossing them in an irregular pattern. I knew it would be days before I would be able to sit down without remembering the pain and embarrassment of this spanking.

I think I have learned my lesson and it will be a long time before I put myself in a position for another one of dad's bare bottom spankings ... believe me, it hurt.

...

1987 I've been married to Jill for about eight months. We had an agreement that I would not discipline her fifteen year old daughter, Marie. Marie has started staying out all night, sometimes two or three days at a time.

Nothing Jill could say or do seemed to stop the girl from doing as she pleased. Jill finally asked for my help.

We sat down with Marie for a family meeting. As her mother told Marie that since she wouldn't listen to her, I would take over responsibility for discipline when she failed to obey the house rules.

Marie is a dark eyed sultry little bitch with a woman's body and ideas. I could see the rebelliousness in her eyes as I explained the new house rules. I knew right then that she was going to test me immediately.

That evening she went out with friends and did not come home. I was very angry and after Jill went to work I called in sick. I put my car in the garage and closed the door. I decided I would wait for Marie to come home and show her I was not fooling around.

Around noon time one of her friends dropped her off in front of the house. She came in and did not even see me sitting on the couch. She walked right by me and up the stairs to her bedroom. I quietly followed her upstairs. The first thing she did was to turn on the overhead light and stereo.