Do I object to my daughter playing music? No, I don't.
Do I object to my daughter and her friends playing loud music? No, I don't.
Do I object to my daughter and her friends playing music so loud that the whole house shakes? Music where the bass is so deep and thundering that the vibration makes cars going past shiver and shake, nearly blowing them off the road? As a matter of fact, yes, I do.
I got home and the house was literally shaking with the sound. Thank god the neighbours were still at work or they'd be at the door with hatchets in their hands, intending to cut the sound off at the source.
I barged up to my daughter's room, banged on the door, and stuck my head inside. No, I didn't wait for an answer. I very much doubt that they even heard my knocking. Dianne did notice the movement when the door opened and my head appeared. I made a fast throat-cutting gesture and she reached over and killed the sound. Dianne and Heather, Dianne's friend, looked at me, enquiry on their faces.
"You have a choice," I told them, speaking gently. "You can turn the music down a little or you can have your stereo system broken into itty bitty pieces, which I will proceed to throw at you."
The two young ladies looked at each other and shrugged.
"We'll turn it down a bit," Dianne assured me.
"You will turn it down a lot," I assured her. "Otherwise I will come back and beat the pair of you so hard you'll be sitting on cushions for a week."
This threat was met with derisive laughter, but they did turn the music down to a dull roar. That I could tolerate.
A little later I was sitting in the kitchen with some coffee when Dianne came sailing in.
"Just running down to the shop," she told me, heading through the kitchen and out the back door. The music was still booming away so I assumed that Heather was still there. This assumption was proved correct when she wandered out a few minutes later to grab a drink out of the fridge.
She stood there, looking at me thoughtfully.
"You wouldn't really beat Dianne, would you," she suddenly asked me.
I gave her a cold look.
"Not for noisy music," I admitted. "Probably not at all. She is eighteen and an adult so I tend to let her go her own way where possible. Still, some lines need to be drawn. You, on the other hand, I would beat quite happily."
"Me?" she said indignantly. "I'm not your daughter."
"True," I granted. "But you are eighteen and therefore of age, so I could beat you without your parents complaining. Not being my daughter is actually an incentive and makes the whole thing more interesting."
The look on her face was priceless. She had no idea how to respond to my comment. She opened her mouth a couple of times, but was just lost for words. She contented herself with giving me the evil eye.
"You don't look as though you believe me," I said, talking quietly while I arose from my chair. I rounded the table and strolled up to her, pulled another chair out and sat on it.
"Let me elaborate," I told her. Moving deftly I removed her drink from her hand and put it on the table, at the same time pulling on her arm so she stumbled forward and finished up across my lap.
"Not being my daughter, I can do this," I told her, flipping her dress up and away from her bottom, and giving said bottom a light spank. "In addition, being of age I can do this, as well." I very rapidly peeled her panties down, exposing her bottom. "It's much more fun delivering a spanking like this," I assured her, dropping another light spank on her now bare bottom.
She was spluttering and trying to tell me where I got off, her hands frantically trying to cover her bottom.
"How could you?" she squealed. "You let me up."
"In a moment. Just wait a second. What really makes it interesting is that I can deliver part of the spanking like this."
I angled my hand as I slapped down, my hand landing very neatly along her mound, giving her a nice friendly slap. I left my hand resting there while she recovered from her shock.
"I'm sure you can now understand that you'd be my spankee of choice."
She took a big shuddering breath and I just knew she wanted to scream so I swung her back to her feet. Her face was flushed and she was glaring at me, while I simply smiled at her.
"I'm glad we had this little chat," I said. "It was amusing and enlightening. We'll have to do it again sometime when Dianne is not expected home. I feel it could become interesting."
She still didn't seem to know what to say so I winked at her.
"One thing," I said, lifting up the front of her dress. "I like a nice smooth mons. Do you think you could attend to that before I see you again." To demonstrate the area I meant I was gently rubbing my fingers through the short curls that she had.
She took a hurried step back away from my hand, her dress dropping back into position. Face burning she hastily pulled up her panties, glaring at me the entire while.
Grabbing her drink off the table she turned to stalk out of the room, ignoring the crude male sitting at the table.
