By Leslie Jones
[The story "Finding Out Dad is Spanked Ch. 01" introduces this one but need not be read first. This story features bodily functions, and involves significant discipline. There are references to wearing soiled underwear. If any of this offends you, please read no further. All characters are over 18.]
It was quite exciting to find out that my father was regularly spanked by my mother. It was even more arousing when he agreed that he needed me to spank him.
I desperately wanted another chance to give him a spanking but recognized that this could only happen when he and I were the only ones at home. That didn't happen all that often.
A few weeks later, though, it did. Mom had gone off on a shopping trip with my younger sister at the mall, and my brother was off for the day with some of his school friends. I found Dad and suggested that this was a propitious time for him to be spanked again.
He did a double take as if to ask why he was being spanked, and why by me. I reminded him that he had told me he needed to be spanked fairly often.
"And I assume you've been naughty since the last time?" I asked him with a grin on my face.
"Yes," he replied, catching on to my drift, "I misbehaved by spurting in the panties I had on, the ones I wear every day on the day after Mom wears them."
"That's naughty, indeed," I said, affecting a stern demeanor. "But I have the strong feeling that you misbehaved more seriously than that, and that it also involved Mom's panties. Ready to confess?" I grinned at him.
He looked uncertain but then spoke slowly. "Yes, Leslie, I've been going through her clean panties in her panty drawer and also the worn ones in the hamper in our bathroom. That's why she's made me wear her worn ones on the day after she had them on."
"Did she spank you for that?" I inquired.
"She did," he answered. "It was one of the first times she spanked me. I had to put on the panties I had tried on and then she pulled them down just below my bottom, put me across her lap, and gave me a formidable spanking."
"You phrased your answer in a way that makes me think you still are combing through her panty drawer and the hamper," I responded. "This means you definitely need a spanking. Come to my bedroom right now, you naughty boy."
He abjectly followed me to my room. I didn't have a dressing table with a straight chair, which my mother had in their bedroom, and which served as an excellent location for her to spank him. But I did have a strong straight chair, and I seated myself on it.
I was wearing a nice tweed skirt, because I figured that would turn him on when I spanked him. I also wore sheer thigh-hi stockings and had my hair up in a bun, so with my crisp white blouse and polished black heels, I looked entirely like the strict teacher who was likely to be every man's vision of his ideal spanker.
When we reached my bedroom, I sat on my straight chair and motioned for him to kneel in front of me. He was wearing tan khaki shorts and a blue polo shirt with running shoes.
He did kneel in front of me, and I warned him, "Now, don't you dare try to peek up my skirt." I then had him get up so that I could unbuckle his belt and take his shorts down. When I had done that, his lime green ladies' briefs were revealed. These were the panties my mother had worn the day before.
"I hope you haven't stained your panties," I said dismissively. Then I reached out and pulled them down to inspect the gusset. I saw some whitish stains and asked him if he had been responsible for them being there.
He shook his head and said that they were there when he put them on this morning. I then assumed that they were my mother's and decided it was better to drop the subject.
I was ready to spank him. I patted my lap. He placed himself across it. Once again, I was thrilled to the fact that I had him in this submissive position, ready to be spanked on his bare bottom. I left his panties just a little way down his thighs from his bottom. I liked leaving them just below his cheeks so they would be exposed yet he would remember that it was panties he was wearing.
"Have you been spanked by mother recently?" I asked.
"Yes, dear," he answered. "She was annoyed that I hadn't completed some work I'd promised her I would take care of for her."
I didn't ask him any more about that spanking although I longed to hear about whether he and Mom enjoyed themselves in bed after that spanking. I knew I would be treading on dubious ground there, however; I didn't want to endanger the growing relationship we were developing around my spanking him. At some point, I wanted to spank him in front of Mom and my brother and sister, too.
So, I started spanking him slowly and then increased the tempo and the strength of my spanks. I repeatedly spanked one cheek and then the other. I reached down between his legs and felt that he had an erection.
"That's very naughty of you to have that now," I lectured him during the spanking, so that he was unlikely to challenge my statement. I kept spanking him until his bottom grew redder, much redder, and he was groaning, then crying out.
Finally, I ceased the spanking and he undoubtedly expected to be given permission to stand and pull up his panties and his shorts. Instead, I told him to leave his panties down on his thighs and bend over the side of my bed.
"What are you doing?" he asked me, confused rather than angry at what was happening.
"You had the temerity to have that during your spanking, Dad, so you will be punished for it," I declared. I said it so definitively in order to forestall any objection or protest on his part.
Then I opened my closet door and took down a thin cane that had been hanging on the inside of the door. He stared up from his position bent across the side of my bed.
"Oh no, Leslie," he cried. "Please don't use that on me!'
"Why not?" I responded coldly. "You get it from Mom when you misbehave, don't you?" He hadn't told me that he did but I had put two and two together.
