In Trouble 1

The day was beautiful. I was in heaven. I was in my last three weeks of High School. I had just turned 18. The birds were singing and the sun was shining, and all was as it should be. Then I went home.

"Jim, Erica is home." Mom called out loud. Then, to me, she said, "You better get up there." She had that look on her face. That 'You're in a world of trouble.' look.

The day was too beautiful for anything major, so I trotted up the stairs. "Daddy?" I called.

"I'm in here, Erica." He said. His voice was coming from my room, so I walked in. "What is this, Erica?" He was sitting on my bed holding a zip-lock bag with something in it. I had never seen it before.

"I don't know." I said.

"Erica?" He said, with that still small voice he used when he was angry.

"Honest, Daddy, I have never seen that before in my life." I was telling the truth. He set the bag on the bed and held his hand out to me. I took his hand, and he pulled me in front of him.

"Well, sweetie, I have to be sure." He gently pulled me across his lap.

"Daddy, I am sure. I have never seen that bag before. It is not mine."

"I hear you, darling, but it was in your room, and I love you, so I have to do this." He lifted my skirt and folded it back against my back. I knew there was no point in fighting or arguing. So I cried. He peeled my panties down, and smacked my bottom really hard. One, two, three, four, five times. My behind was in flames, and I'm sure it was red as an apple by now.

"Now, Erica, what's in the bag?" He asked. I was sobbing pretty hard, and Daddy waited patiently for me to catch my breath. "Erica, what's in the bag?"

"I really don't know, Daddy." I said between sobs. One, two, three, four, five more smacks on my bare bottom. I was sobbing again.

"Erica, I'm only going to ask you one more time." He waited for me to quiet down a little. "What's in the bag, dear?"

"I already told you, Daddy, I don't know." One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen more, and every one just as hard as the first.

"Now, darling, you will stay in your room for the rest of the day, and we will talk about this again tonight." I climbed off his lap, straightening my clothes, and threw myself on my bed. I could hear daddy's footsteps going down the stairs.

My seat was hot enough to cook on, but I also felt something else. I had this tingling feeling way down in my tummy. It felt more like it was down between my legs. In some way, I was aroused by what had just happened. I couldn't believe what I was feeling. I was horny.

I cleaned up my room. I say that casually, as if my room ever needed cleaning. I am a neat freak. I clean my room every day. This day was different, because I had nothing else to do. I usually spend about 20 to 30 minutes dusting and cleaning, but today I spent three hours. I refolded everything in my drawers, and re arranged my closet, twice. I cleaned all my shoes. I even vacuumed, in spite of the fact I had just done it yesterday.

It was dinner time, but no one called me. I waited, hoping they would call, but they didn't. Just when I thought dinner must be over, they called. I quickly went downstairs, and walked into the dinning room. Mom had already cleared the table, and Daddy stood and walked around the table.

"So, dear, have you thought about what's in the bag?" I nodded. Mom came back in the room, and she was carrying that rattan cane she had always threatened us with, but had never used.

"So, what's in the bag, Erica?" Daddy asked.

"I really don't know, Daddy. Please believe me." I was almost begging.

"Drop your shorts to the floor and bend over the end of the table, sweetie. I want to believe you. I really do." I dropped my shorts and stepped out of them, then I bent over the end of the table. I honestly believed they were just trying to scare me, which incidentally, was working just great. They had never used the cane in all the years I had been alive, and I didn't really think they would start now.

Mom stepped up and handed the cane to Daddy, then she grasped my panties and pulled them down to expose my bottom. "Erica, your Dad and I love you to death, but we are worried about you. Just tell us what it is, and we will help you. We will do whatever it takes, just tell us what it is, and lets stop this before it goes any further."

"Mom, I wish to God I could tell you what's in the bag, but I don't know. There is nothing I can do to change that. I'm sorry."

Mom stepped back. I knew what that meant. I was still totally unprepared for the intensity of the pain as one, two, three blows landed on my ass, instantly raising welts. I screamed as the third blow struck. I didn't want to; I didn't try to. I couldn't help it.

"I don't know." I blurted it out before anyone asked. I was rewarded with three more welts. Mom disappeared from the room. Daddy laid three more welts on my distressed behind before she came back.

"Jim. It's the police. Erica, go to your room." I ran, panties still down, leaving my shorts on the dining room floor. I closed my door and buried my face in my pillow and just cried.

I must have stayed like that for about an hour. I might even have fallen asleep, but I was awakened by a knock at my bedroom door. I said come in and my Daddy opened the door.

"I still don't know what's in the bag." I said.

"I know, darling. I know, and I'm sorry. I hope you understand why we did what we did. I love you." He said.

"What did the police want? I asked.

"They were here about your brother. Apparently, he went to the police station after school today. They came to check out his story."

"What story?" I asked.

"Well, your brother got home last night and found something in his book bag. I don't know why he didn't tell us about it, but he went to the police station after school and told them what he found. They came to check it out."

"What was it?" I asked.

"He thought it was a bag of marijuana. He hid it here so he wouldn't get caught with it, and went to the police."

"Ha! That's just great. And just where did he hide it?"

"He said that he was worried that whoever put it in his bag might break into our house to look for it, so he hid it right here, in your room. That is right where we found it. I'm sorry, sweetie. I have never had reason to doubt you, and I shouldn't have doubted you this time, but I had to be sure. If you were doing drugs, we wouldn't be able to forgive ourselves if we did nothing."

"Could you do me a favor, Daddy?" I asked.

"Anything, princess." He said.

"You haven't told Jason about this, have you?"

"No. Why?"

"Don't tell him. Please. I'd just assume we all forgot about it. I certainly don't want Jason to know about it." I said.

"Alright, I can do that. I'll tell your Mom not to mention it. Again, princess, I'm so sorry. I know it hurt a lot. Forgive me?"

"It's alright, Daddy. I forgive you. I know you did it because you love me. I just hope you never have to do it again."

"Goodnight, sweetie."