Whatever You Need

This short story is part of a longer story I hope to write someday. I just wrote it, and so it might have a few mistakes, but I hope you all can forgive me.

And yes, although the story is written from a first person male perspective, I was that girl once, but had never dared to ask.

To me this is the road not taken.

And oh, all fictional characters in this story are of course over 18...

E.L.

*****

"Dad?"

As I looked up from my football game, I knew something was wrong. Simply by the way Lina looked at me, the way she stood in her soft pink silk pajamas, one foot behind the other and her arms tightly clamped behind her back, she seemed almost hesitant to step forward.

"Yes honey? What is it?"

"I have... a problem... and I... kinda need your help."

The emphasis she put on the word need struck me most, as if desperation pushed her to do something she didn't really want to do.

"You know you only have to ask. What can I help you with?"

As her hands came into sight, I saw she held one of her slippers, and looking down I noted she was barefoot.

"I need you... to hit me with this."

"What?" I replied, really having been caught off guard, but apparently she misunderstood my intention as she quickly stepped in and kneeled before me feet. Holding out the slipper for me to take as if it was a holy relic, quite confused I took it.

"I need you to spank me, dad. I have been bad, and I don't know a way out anymore."

"Well first of all, stand up so we can sit down and talk about this."

She shook her head fervently.

"No. I need this, and I need it to be this way. It's... complicated."

Now when Lina used the word complicated I always knew the origin of the problem lay in her past, so I took a wild guess.

"It's your father, isn't it?"

She nodded silently, her head bowed as if she couldn't even look at me.

"Look. We discussed this. I know he used to beat you two, and I told you long ago that I would never do that, to either of you. I am not that kind of man."

"But I need it!"

Again this word need with such emphasis of desperate desire.

"Then first tell me why you need it."

"I... have been bad."

"So you told me. What is it that you think was bad, bad enough to ask me to punish you for it?"

"I have... been with boys."

"Well, you're nineteen, I would think it's only natural."

"No, you don't understand. I have been with boys."

"Oh."

"Several boys."

"Oh."

"A lot of boys."

"Oh. Right. Erm. I don't quite know what to say about that really. Have you... been safe? I mean, condoms and such?"

"Yes, always. I'm not a moron. But lately is has been getting out of hand and... I am scared."

"Alright, but I still don't see a need to be punished over it. You have a sexual appetite, apparently a large appetite, and you are just experimenting with... things."

"No. You don't understand. I am scared of what I long for. It might not... be safe."

"Right. Erm... such as?"

"Bondage," she breathed almost inaudibly.

"And pain... punishment..."

"But punishment for what?"

"For being bad. For being... broken."

"Oh. Right. Well maybe instead of doing... those things, you might just need to talk to someone. A psychologist maybe."

Again she shook her head as the words came flooding from her lips.

"The school has one, and I talked to her, or at least I tried to, but she doesn't get it. She doesn't get me as she cannot relate to who I am, where I came from. I cannot trust anyone with this, not with this. No one but you."

"Well, ehh... I..."

"Please dad," she now looked up at me as she was clearly close to crying.

"Please. I need this. Please."

"Well... alright then, if I can help. How do you suppose we do this?"

As she got up, she quickly moved over to the dining table and stretched out over it, gripping the other edge with her hands as a hand-hold, her toes now barely touching the ground. Either she had thought out things quite thoroughly, or she had secretly tried out the position when no one was around.

"Like this."

"Anddd where do you suggest I hit you with your slipper?"

"My ass, please. My... bare ass."

"Right. So. Erm."

Noticing my embarrassment, she looked back from her position on the table and gave me a little smile.

"It's OK dad. Really. I won't tell anyone about this."

"Well I won't either, so it will be our secret then."

"Yes. A secret no one can ever know. I can't have this ruining my reputation, or yours."

"Right. So. I guess you will have to bare your cheeks then, if that's what you want."

"Oh. I had guessed you would want to..." she stammered.

"Well if you want me to then..."

"No. Wait. It's fine I will..."

And with that she releasing her grip and slid back a little until her feet were on the ground again, quickly pushing down the elastic band of her pajama pants to her knees, showing she was wearing nothing underneath.

"Right then. I see you came prepared," I uttered, and she smiled her shy smile again.

"Yes. I thought this through really hard before asking you. I even thought about not bothering you and letting one of the boys do this, but I don't trust them enough to... not take advantage."

"Right. So. Back on the table then."

"Yes dad," she breathed and never before in my life had I felt so wrong about her word use. This was not something a dad should do, or would do, or even should want to do. But as enough books about childrearing, especially the older ones, told about some children needing a firm hand in some way, I guessed this was one of those things a father just had to do, and softly tapped the slipper against her bottom to get a feel of things.

Lina looked back in surprise.

"Seriously?" was all she said.

"I hadn't started yet. This is all very strange to me, you know."

"For me too."

"Good. Then at least we're learning together. Just tell me when you want me to stop, OK?"

"OK."

"Or if I hit too hard, or too soft, or..."

"OK."

"OK?"

"OK."

She giggled for a moment about the absurdity of the situation, and it was at that time for no particular reason I pulled back and smacked her ass with the slipper.

Whack!

The sound was loud, loud enough to leave a ringing in my ears and as a result, Lina choked in her giggle and shivered.

"Good," she then spoke softly.

"Please. More."

Whack!

The second blow was as hard as the first, but this time I was able to direct it better, landing it on her other cheek. Lina let out a soft moan.

"Yes. More. Please!"

The stress in her voice urged me on, knowing that somehow I was helping her work through something, and I let a short series of slaps land on her ass, varying in cheek and intervals, but not in strength.

Whack!

Whack!

Whack! Whack!

Whack!

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Whack! Whack!

Whack!

"God yes. Please don't stop. More! More! More!"

Finding my stride and stance now, I let it rain on her ass, the sound cracking the air at high speed in a constant barrage as if something primal had awoken in me and was actually taking pleasure in this, enjoying hurting my daughter, enjoying...

Just as quick as the feeling had come over me, it left again and suddenly I felt terribly guilty about what I had done.

"I... I am sorry... I don't know..." I stammered, as Lina softly released her breath in a long hiss as she slid back onto her feet, still leaning over the table like a ragdoll.

"That was... wonderful. Thank you."

"You... wanted that? This was what you wanted?"

"Yes, this was exactly what I needed."

Looking at her still bare ass that was now partially covered by her pajama top, I could see the cheeks were stained with little purple-red dots, the profile of the slipper I had used.

"Good. Then. Here is your slipper."

Putting it on the table, I turned and walked back to the TV and the football match, where I sat down in a daze. I only half-noticed the soft rustle of Lina putting her pants back on. As her bare feet made stepping sounds on the tile floor to cover the distance between us, I could not look up. I felt deeply ashamed, so denigrated, as if it had been me on that table being punished. It was hard to look her in the eye as she sat down in front of me again the way she had done before, but this time a little more awkward as she was in clear pain with her ass resting on her feet.

"Thank you. Really. Thank you. I needed that."

"You're welcome," I managed to speak, finding it hard to look at her after what I had done, but still forcing myself to do so.

Her breath was calmer now, as if the punishment had released something she had kept cropped up inside. She seemed happier too, almost glowing in her smile.

"Now. There is one more thing I need. But don't worry, you won't have to hurt me or anything."

"Oh thank God for that."

"I need you to buy me a vibrator so I won't have to rely on boys cocks anymore to get my needs met."

"Right," I uttered, now completely dazed and confused about what was happening to my life as a father raising a daughter, as this was definitely not in any textbook I had ever read.

"I know which one I want and I can order it online, so you won't have to go into any shop or something. I need is your credit card and I'll take care of it."

"OK. Thank you for that. It's in my wallet."

"OK. And thank you. Really. Thank you."

I coughed a little.

"OK. Whatever you need," I then said, almost fearing my own words on what would come up next.

"Yes dad. I know," she said, and disappeared from sight.