Nives

I hate knives. My brother was mucking around with one when we were teenagers and sliced my hand open to the bone. I was damn lucky not to lose the use of a couple of my fingers. Twenty three stitches to sew it up and a permanent scar.

I'm long divorced. The ex decided the hassle of a husband and kids was more than she wanted and just shot through one day, leaving me to raise them. I think I did a reasonable job. They all seem to be doing OK.

My younger daughter, Kate, had a friend, Carleen, known as Carly. The two of them were always together, always getting into mischief. One day, when they were about thirteen they really screwed up. I can't remember the exact details, just that they'd been doing something I'd specifically told them not to do and then getting caught.

I do remember that they could have been hurt quite badly with their little stunt, and it wasn't something that I was just going to let pass. I hoicked them into my bedroom and pinned their ears back. Just to make sure the lesson stuck, Kate went across my knee and had her tush well and truly paddled. If Carly had been shocked to see me do that, she was even more shocked when I turned around and did the same to her.

"But I'm not your daughter," she tried to explain to me, but somehow her reasoning didn't sink in. She went over my knee anyway.

It's amazing how their behaviour improved after that little episode. There again, it could be that they were just a lot more careful in hiding any transgressions.

At age eighteen, Carly moved out of her home, and she and her boyfriend, Jason, rented a unit together. Honestly, I didn't think much of Jason. I thought he wasn't up to Carly's weight. She was rapidly maturing into a fine young woman, while I think he was rapidly maturing into a loser. It was a bit of a mother/son relationship in my opinion.

Late one evening, about three months after Carly had moved in with Jason, I got a call from Kate. She was upset. Cutting through all the wails and babbling, it turned out that Carly and Jason had had a big fight. Carly had pulled a knife on Jason and ordered him out of the house and Jason had skulked off home to mummy. Now Carly was upset and also feeling full of herself for her derring do. Kate was also upset and wanted to go and see Carly, but was finding it a bit hard as she was currently interstate. Could I please go around and make sure everything was all right with Carly.

Feeling slightly irritated, I agreed. It would soothe Kate's feelings and you never know, Carly might actually need someone to talk to, although I don't think I was the one she would have chosen.

So there I was, ten o'clock at night, driving over to soothe the frazzled nerves of a young woman who had just attacked her boyfriend with a knife. Oh, joy. What could be better?

I knocked on her door and she answered and let me in. She was all jittery and excited, and it didn't take long to work out that she was still a bit high from an adrenaline rush. She wanted to talk and, for the time being, I let her.

Carly chattered about how things were working out between her and Jason. Not well, who'd have guessed, and finally came around to the current evening's performance. Jason had lost another job. Apparently they expected him to get to work on time and, once there, to actually work. Some employers are like that, I've noticed.

Anyway, Jason was out of work again, couldn't find his half of the rent, or utility bills, or food, or anything, and had started bitching that Carly wasn't earning enough. She should do more overtime. She'd pointed out that if he hadn't blown his severance pay before he even got home, he could have contributed something to the outstanding bills.

Jason started abusing her; not physically, just swearing at her and putting her down. Carly had snapped, grabbed the knife and held it under his nose. She then gave him the choice of getting out of the house or losing his nose. At that stage, Jason departed. Carly didn't know if he'd be back or not, and quite frankly, she was currently hoping for not.

Now I had quite a bit of sympathy for Carly's position, honest. But she must have known by this time that Jason was a loser and a mummy's boy, and to have expected loser behaviour from him. She probably did, but she doesn't like to give up on things or to admit that she might have made a mistake.

However, I have to say that pulling the knife was a bit over the top. All she really had to was tell him to leave and Jason probably would have folded and gone.

After a while, Carly finally started to get the impression that I wasn't too thrilled with her behaviour. Unfortunately, instead of cooling down a bit more and taking stock of the situation, she started to get a bit more hyped up and aggressive.

I had noticed the rather nasty looking butcher's knife on the coffee table, but hadn't mentioned it. Now Carly picked it up and started waving it around, saying how she fully intended to use it if Jason came back. She knew about my feelings for knives, and she was deliberately goading me, trying to make me react.

So I did.

"So you're prepared to use that knife to defend yourself, against Jason, are you?" I asked her.

She nodded enthusiastically, watching for my reaction.

"And against who else?" I asked.

There was a little wrinkle on her forehead now as she considered that one.

"I'm not sure what you mean," she admitted.

"What I mean is that you screwed up as soon as you picked up that knife and threatened Jason," I said. "Jason wasn't going to stand up to you if you started laying down the law, and you damn well know it. The knife was just hyperbole, used to scare him because you were pissed off. Right now you're feeling pleased as Punch, but what if someone else annoys you? Are you going to pull a knife then? Maybe cut someone to teach them a lesson?"

Carly went all defensive. With Carly, this meant a full on attack. Jason was bigger and stronger than her. She needed the knife to defend herself. What if he'd hit her?

Fat chance of that, I thought. He'd be too scared that she'd hit him back.

I was already irritated by being drawn into the situation. Carly boasting about it and bragging about what else she'd do was really pissing me off. I thought it was time to show her the path of sweet reason.

"OK, Carly," I said. "Let's see how effective you are with that knife. In my opinion, you screwed up tonight, and you know it. So I'm going to put you across my knee and spank you. And before you start, yes, I know that you're not my daughter. If you want to stop me, feel free to start slashing with the knife."

At that stage I opened my hand and regarded the large scar across it. Then I tilted my hand so she could also see it.

"Did you know that if the knife is really sharp, you don't even feel it cutting you. There's just this impression of pressure, and then there's blood spurting everywhere.

Now where were we? Oh, yes, I remember. Spanking time."

I calmly reached over and took her by the upper arm and drew her over towards me. Carly was looking at my hand, the scarred one, then at the knife she was holding and then at me. She opened her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it.

"Of course, if you do decide to slice me up with the little toy you're holding, you're going to have to explain to Kate how you came to be carving up her dear old dad. But I'm sure that won't worry you."

Now I was pushing an astounded Carly over my knee, still holding the knife. At some stage during the evening, Carly had been getting ready for bed, and she was wearing some flannelette pyjamas. I pulled them smartly down away from her bottom, just a bit too early for Carly's protest.

"Wait, no," she'd squealed. "I haven't anything else on."

True. When the pyjamas went south, a cute little white bottom was presented to me. I promptly brought my hand firmly down upon it. That, I think, was when Carly finally decided I wasn't kidding.

The knife went sailing across the room, while the apologies started. She wouldn't really have knifed Jason. She just wanted to scare him. I didn't really intend to spank her, did I?

I would have thought the fact that she lying across my knee with a bare bottom and one hand print already on it would have been a pretty fair indication that I did. To help resolve her doubts, however, I decorated her other cheek with another handprint.

Carly tried to point out I wasn't her father, spank, that I had no right to do this, spank, she wasn't thirteen, spank, and she was never going to speak to me again, spank.

The only argument that even touched me was her comment on her age. I was noticing with appreciation that she was now an adult, and a very nicely formed one. This didn't stop me giving her a good hard spanking. She really had been acting silly, waving a knife around like that. Someone could have been hurt.

Carly squealed and wept and pleaded as the spanking continued, but I noticed that she didn't actually struggle. Apart from kicking her legs up and down a bit when a spank smarted more than most, she was quiescent, submitting to her punishment.

My appreciation that she was an adult was even more marked when I noticed that each time she kicked her legs, they drifted a little further apart, giving me quite a nice view. I don't know if it was accidental or deliberate, but Carly was definitely presenting to a dominant male.

Finally deciding enough was enough, I stood Carly back on her feet, facing me. Interestingly, she didn't try to cover herself or grab for her pyjama trousers to pull them up. She just stood looking at me with wide eyes, her hands hovering above her bottom, wanting to rub it but not game to touch it just yet. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"You say you're an adult and want to be treated like an adult?" I asked gently.

Carly looked suspicious, but gave a small nod.

I gave a satisfied nod in return, then I took hold of her pyjama top and lifted it. Carly raised her arms automatically, and the top was over her head and off before she caught on to what was going on. Now she was standing naked in front of me, and her face was as red as her bottom.

Once again I pulled Carly across my knee, but this time my fingertips drifted gently over her bottom, wandering all around it, lightly touching, but moving steadily towards the junction of her legs.

Carly was breathing hard, and as my hands got closer, her legs started to drift apart, giving me access between them. Now my fingertips were drifting ever so lightly across her mound, just a feather-light touch that Carly could feel right down to her toes. (I knew she could because her knees bent and I could see her toes curling.)

My other hand was now drifting over to her breasts, and that same feathery touch was starting to tease her breasts and nipples. Carly was gasping and doing far more wriggling than when I was spanking her, but all her wriggling now seemed to be trying to get closer to my touch, wanting a firmer commitment.

I suddenly clasped a breast firmly while at the same time my hand also cupped and squeezed her love mound, causing Carly's whole body to jump and a pleading squeak erupt from her lips. I started teasing in earnest.

I squeezed and manipulated her breasts, rubbing and pinching the nipples. My fingers were easing apart her lips and diving between them, spreading the teasing from the outside to her inner self. She was hot, wet and excited, and I was steadily driving her wild.

It wasn't long before Carly was practically quivering with anticipation. She knew what was coming and she wanted it. She wanted it now. I stood up, lifting her with me, and walked over to and into the bedroom. Laying her on the bed, I stripped, while she lay there, watching and waiting.

Finally naked, I came to her. Her legs were already parted, waiting for me, and I moved quickly between them. I pressed my erection firmly against her slit, then looked at her, raising one eyebrow.

She laughed.

"Yes, damn you," she said. "Do it."

Then she gave a shriek as I drove fully into her, taking her with that one single thrust.

Carly was a woman, all right, and her hips were pushing up to meet me even as I started into her. We came together so naturally that you'd think we'd been doing it on a regular basis, instead of just starting what I was suddenly hoping would be the first of a long running series.

We settled down into an enthusiastic pattern, both trying our best to pleasure the other, our reward being our own increasing pleasures. We took out time, but this didn't mean that we didn't also have this feeling of urgency. We were two adults who knew what we were doing and were enjoying the doing of it.

At one stage, towards the end, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't even thought of contraception. Carly must have read it in my face, as she gave a part laugh, part gasp, part mewling sound, and said she was on the pill, and to please stop stuffing about and get to work.

Ever obedient to the wishes of a lover, I did, driving in harder and faster, watching Carly's face as her climax came swarming over her, reading in her eyes when it was hitting her, and driving hard to achieve mine at the same time.

We were lying there afterwards, Carly snuggling up next to me, when her phone rang. Typically female, she promptly grabbed for it. It was Kate.

"Yes, Kate," Carly was telling her. "He came around and was properly sympathetic, listening while I vented. He was a bit rude afterwards about my waving a knife around. -- I know. He's always had this thing about knives. -- What did he say? Well it wasn't what he said so much. You remember when we were thirteen? -- Uh huh, he most certainly did. I couldn't believe it. -- I'd love to hear you when you speak to him about it. -- He'll probably say I deserved it."

I sighed and laid back. Now I'd have to explain to Kate. Hopefully, only about the spanking, but you can never tell when two girls get to talking just what they will spill.