Meeting

Maureen was young, pretty and in a hurry.

That's probably why she backed her father's BMW straight into the side of the car parked opposite her. She came flying full pace out of her parking spot and delivered a very nice crunch to the old car that was unfortunate enough to be there.

She hesitated and glanced around. No-one there. She shrugged and went on her way.

Arriving home, Maureen rushed to see her father.

"It happened in the parking lot, Daddy," she explained, tears in her eyes. "I got back to the car and someone had hit the back of it. They didn't leave a note or anything."

Her father groaned and went out to inspect the damage. "Don't worry about it too much, sweetheart," he told his distraught daughter. "As far as I can see it's just the tail-light broken. The bumper bar appears to have absorbed the collision and just bounced out. It'll cost a hundred or so but it's not even worth putting in a claim."

After calming Maureen, Ted Jensen called his dealer and had the car booked for repairs. Then he retired to his office, grumbling about careless fools who rush around car parks.

Later that afternoon the doorbell sounded and, on answering, Ted found George Mixar, the son of one of his friends, waiting.

"Hullo, George," greeted Ted. He smiled. "I assume that you're here to see Maureen, not me."

"That I am," agreed Ted. "Is she home?"

"She is. Come on in," Ted invited. "Do try not to argue with her today, won't you. I don't know why the two of you always wind up fighting."

"Personality clash, I guess, Mr. Jensen. Say, I noticed that your car has a broken tail light. Did you know that?"

"I did," grunted Ted. "Some idiot in the car park. I don't know who."

"That's too bad," sympathised George. "Funny enough the same thing happened to me this morning. I was driving my old banger while my proper car was being serviced, and someone ploughed into it and just took off. I was luckier than you though. I was looking out the window of the coffee shop and saw the driver."

Ted looked at George. He had a nasty feeling about where this was going.

George shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Mr. Jensen, but it was your BMW and Maureen driving. And it wasn't just a gentle nudge. She caved in both doors on the driver's side. It's a good thing that old banger wasn't worth much, because it's now worth nothing.

While I'm bringing the bad news, I'd better tell you to get your BMW checked carefully. You could easily have some structural damage hidden away."

Ted sighed and sent some nasty thoughts winging towards Maureen.

"You'd better come into the office, lad, and I'll give you a cheque to cover the damages."

"No need to bother, Mr. Jensen. The old bomb was only worth a couple of hundred as scrap, and I've already collected that from the wreckers. No, what I want is to have a word or two with Maureen, if you don't mind."

"I don't think you need to bother, lad," grunted Ted. "I'll be having a few words with her myself."

"And she'll cry and you'll go to water. You're too soft on her and you know it. I'm different. I'll lay it straight on the line to her. Actually, if you hadn't been home Maureen would probably be across my knee right now getting that spanking she's been deserving for the past couple of years."

Ted glared at George. "I think I know how to handle my daughter," he snapped.

"Maybe," said George, not yielding an inch, "but that little stunt this morning was a criminal offence. Several actually. Careless driving, failing to stop after an accident, failure to exchange name and address and probably others."

Ted continued to glare at George, knowing he had a couple of good points. Ted knew he did tend to spoil his daughter, and she had caused an accident and lied to him about it. She was an adult, he decided. Let's see if she could resolve her own problem.

"Well," he snapped, "I can't stand here discussing this with you all day. I have to take my car to the dealers." He headed for the door, lifting the keys off the peg. As he left he turned and called to his daughter.

"Maureen, George is here. He has something he wants to discuss with you."

Maureen came slouching down the hall to greet George.

"Uh, it's you," she grunted. "What do you want?"

George smiled. "I was just telling your dad about that little accident you had this morning," he told her softly.

Maureen snapped to attention. "You saw that?" she asked. "What did you tell Dad?"

"Just that I saw you plough into a parked car and then take off without stopping," she was informed, George smiling all the time.

Maureen exploded. "You interfering bastard," she stormed. "Why'd you have to go and do that. He's going to be so mad at me now."

George's smile grew wider. "No madder than the owner of the car you ploughed under," he pointed out. "He is really pissed at you."

"You fucking told on me," Maureen gasped. "How could you do that?"

George's smile did not falter. If anything it grew bigger and sunnier. "I didn't need to tell the owner," he quietly told her. "I was already there and I saw the whole thing."

It took Maureen a moment to work this out, then she paled slightly.

"It was your car?" she asked hesitantly.

"Was being the operative word," came the reply, from a George who was no longer smiling. "You totalled it. I had to get a car wrecker to come and cart it away. Not a productive use of my morning."

Maureen flushed, but had nothing to say.

"Your dad offered to pay any damages," George mentioned, to Maureen's relief. "Fortunately, the wrecker didn't care about the damages and gave me a couple of hundred for the carcase, which was all it was really worth undamaged."

Seeing Maureen relaxing, George tightened the screws again. "The question is, do I report it to the police or do we handle it 'in house' shall we say?"

Tears are required, decided Maureen, letting her eyes start to water and feeling the first tear roll down her cheek.

"I'm really terribly sorry, George," she sobbed. "I don't know what happened. I just panicked I guess. It's the first accident I've been in and I was scared. My dad's going to kill me for this." The tears continued to roll.

George was impressed. With the performance, not the contrition.

"Your dad has ratted out on you," he informed Maureen. "He's left you in my tender care. I'm quite willing to make allowances for you, so unless you insist we'll leave the police out of it."

Maureen nodded. She was quite willing to leave the cops out of it. A few more tears and George would be apologising for leaving his car where she could hit it.

"OK. Let's adjourn to your father's study and we can discuss the penalty, shall we."

Still weeping contritely, Maureen preceded George into her father's study. Valiantly trying to dry her eyes, lip trembling, she asked George "what now?"

Tears and contrition disappeared in a flash, to be replaced by temper when George calmly informed her that 'what now' was her going across his knee and being soundly spanked.

"Are you fucking kidding me," she screamed. "You're out of your tiny mind if you think I'm going to sit quietly while you spank me."

"As I envisage you will be lying struggling and screaming for the whole show, I don't think we need to worry about my state of mind. And I believe I've mentioned before that your language is unladylike at times. You really should work on that."

"Well, excuse me," came the stunned retort. "You're going to beat me and I should be worried about my language?"

"Don't let it worry you right now. We can address that issue while you're over my knee. As a matter of fact," George added thoughtfully, "there are several issues that it might pay us to address."

Maureen glared her hostility at George. OK, she'd stuffed up, but she'd be damned if this prig was going to lecture her. She rapidly considered her options.

Tears? Tried and useless with this hardhearted creep.

Temper? He had a nasty one too.

Sweet reason? Only works if you have a reasonable opponent or a sucker, and George was neither.

Although she hated it, Maureen opted for her last option. She turned and bolted.

Maureen had barely taken two steps when something caught her dress and jerked her to a stop. There was also a ripping sound, and to Maureen's shock the remains of her dress dropped to her feet, almost completely split in two, leaving her standing there in lacy bikini style undies.

She turned stunned eye on George, to see him laughing.

"That was an accident," he told her, "but I must admit it makes it a lot easier for me to remove it. You look sensational in those undies by the way," he added. "It almost seems a shame to take them off."

Take them off? Was he kidding? Maureen tried defiance and haughtiness.

She held her head high and spoke quietly. "I may not be able to prevent you hitting me," she said, "but there is no way I am taking off my clothes."

It had the same effect as everything else she tried. It amused him. Had he always had such an evil smile, she wondered?

George casually took her arm and drew her across the room to an armless chair. Sitting, he indicated that she should bend over. Fuming she glared at him, but found no give in his bland smile. Reluctantly she bent over.

"All right," she snapped. "If you think you have to, go ahead. Just hurry it up and get it over with."

"Don't be so impatient," murmured George. Holding her with one hand firmly on her back, he reached down and slipped down her panties.

Reacting as expected, Maureen tried to rear up, yelling "No."

Ignoring her, George then reached over and unclipped her bra, letting it drop away from her breasts. There was some more frantic wriggling from Maureen at this further liberty, but there was nothing she could do. She lay across his knee fuming.

She was even more furious when he lifted her back to her feet, causing her panties to slip the rest of the way to the floor while her bra fell down her arms.

"You may as well discard them now," pointed out George. "It's not as though they're covering anything," he added, his eyes running pointedly over her exposed charms.

Biting her tongue to prevent herself shouting and screaming, Maureen stepped out of the panties and let the bra drop to the floor. Then she was being gently but firmly directed over his knee again, finding herself wedged between his thighs with her bottom fully exposed to his laughing eyes.

"Now, Maureen, you have been spoilt by your father, which tends to make you selfish," George told Maureen, knowing as he did so that she'd be rolling her eyes and thinking, yes, yes, yackety, yak.

"There are certain words that I want you to think about. Consider what you might do to address these little problems. I will help you by emphasising these words. Now the two I just used were spoilt and selfish."

As he repeated these words, George brought his hand down hard on Maureen's bottom, to the accompaniment of a couple of shocked screams and a frantic struggle. Until that first spank Maureen hadn't really thought George would go ahead with a spanking, sure that it was all bluff. Embarrassing, but a bluff.

Now, with her bottom already stinging from the first two spanks, and knowing there were more to come, Maureen started to struggle.

Uselessly, she quickly found, as George easily controlled her. Waiting until her struggling slowed, George then delivered another hard spank, eliciting another scream.

"Stop struggling," she was ordered. "It won't help and it will earn you extra spanks."

Feeling distinctly put upon and slightly scared, Maureen waited for George to continue his damned lecture.

George considered what to say next and then shrugged. "You know the sort of things I want to say," he told her. "I've probably told them all to you before, although the hit and run is new. So I won't bother boring you by repeating it all."

Hearing her slight sigh of relief, he added. "I'll just deliver the spanking and you can associate whatever key words you like to each spank."

With that George addressed his task with a will, not hurrying but giving Maureen a slow, hard spanking, making sure to pay attention to both cheeks, turning then a burning red.

Maureen progressed from screaming in rage and pain, to pleading to just sobbing, her first genuine tears in quite a few years. When George finally stopped and stood her up, she didn't move but just stood there, sobbing.

George stood and looked down at her. Tilting her head to make her look at him, he quietly told her. "You are going to learn, Maureen. Hopefully without me having to do this again, but you are going to learn. Understand?"

Tears still running down her cheeks Maureen nodded, continuing to stand there forlornly.

Bending down, George picked up her underwear and the remains of her dress. Seeing them, and suddenly becoming acutely aware of her nakedness, Maureen found herself rising out of her forlornness, other emotions making themselves felt. All at once, she found the heat from her bottom was being overridden by heat from inside her.

Her tears dried, and she was excruciatingly aware of the fact that she was female. She could feel little prickles from her breasts and knew her nipples were standing up, hoping to get noticed.

She tried to speak, but didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, for once at a complete loss.

George lifted her clothes and drew her attention to them. "Do you want me to give you these and go?" he asked softly.

Maureen was still at a loss. Part of her wanted to scream at him and tell him to go, part of her wanted him to stay. For what, she wondered?

Taking silence as liberty in this case, George took Maureen's arm and turned her towards the door, leading her through it.

"Where's he taking me," she wondered, nervousness creeping over her along as a rise in her internal heat. Admitting it to herself or not, she knew exactly where they were going.

Not speaking, they walked down the hall to her bedroom. On entering, George calmly steered Maureen over to the bed and eased her down onto it. Sitting, cautiously when her bottom reminded of events just past, then lying, Maureen didn't speak, but just waited for George to come to her.

She watched as he stripped of his clothes, her body heating fast. They had been lovers before, but never after such a confrontation as this.

George settled down next to her, and then he was kissing her, roughly. She responded in the same manner. There was too much emotion flowing between them for this to be a gentle loving. That would come another time. This time they were in a hurry. Hands were already touching forbidden places, roughly, greedily, longing for consummation.

Then George was leaning over her, pushing her legs up and away, positioning himself and then he was driving into her, all their anger and frustration changed to passion that wanted and took.

Maureen was clinging to him, nails digging in and holding him to her. Her legs had curled around his waist, pulling him deeper, not wanting to let him go.

All her pain and humiliation was forgotten as her eager body took her pleasure of him. All his anger and stern discipline was now a driving yearning to demonstrate his mastery of her body.

Together they rode their emotional storm, finding their relief in each other, binding themselves, each to the other, their bodies sealing their commitment.

Then it was over and they relaxed, sated. Quiet words were exchanged as they lay there, content in each other's presence.

Eventually George stirred. "Your father will be back soon. It might be wise if I'm not here when he returns."

Maureen nodded, reluctant to let him go, but knowing he would be back.

As he left she looked after him, thinking. "If he was that angry about that silly little car I hit, what's he going to do when he finds out what else happened?" She shivered, thinking of potential punishment to come.