It felt strange walking back in to my old room after 5 years away it had not even been decorated since I was last here. Mum and Dad had divorced while I had been living with John and I would have rather moved in with Mum but her new bloke wasn't keen so I had ended up here. I knew Dad could be a bit old fashioned and liked things doing his way but I knew this arrangement wouldn't be for that long and figured we would get along ok.
Me and John splitting up seem to happen so fast and although I was pretty upset it wasn't the end of the world and I soon began to catch up with loads of old mates.
I was soon going out 3 or 4 times a week and began dressing more revealingly than John would ever have allowed. I was even surprised with some of the mini skirts I had plucked up the courage to wear and began to feel more like a teenager than a grown woman of twenty six.
Dad on the other hand was not very impressed and most of the time began to get more and more annoyed with me. "You look like a right Tart" he would often say as I went out and said I was getting a reputation with the neighbours for making a noise when I came home giggling like a drunken schoolgirl. I had been living back home about two months when he said it was pity Mum never let him discipline as he wanted when I was growing up or I might not have turned out into a lazy little tart. I remembered a few occasions as a teenager when Mum and dad argued over me and how Mum had absolutely forbid him to spank me. To be honest I had her wrapped around my little finger and did get away with murder as far as Dad was concerned.
I soon stopped talking any notice of what Dad said and dismissed him with a surly "yeah whatever" ever time he criticized the way I looked or when I was lazy around the house.
He had managed to look after the house for two years since mum moved out so why did I have to do any of the housework. I remember actually openly laughing at him when he said maybe a dose of the belt on my bare backside would show me some respect.
The words seem to stay in my head all that night and I kept picturing him standing with the belt in his hand I knew it was absurd but I had a strange fascination with it. I drank a little more than usual and my friends said I was in world of my own all night. God knows what they would have said if I told them what I was thinking about. I was the first to be dropped off in the taxi later on and as usual we were all pretty loud, I had told them before how the neighbours complained about the noise we made and they were louder than ever this time. I was quite drunk but in an effort to pacify them I bent over to take my shoes of not to make too much noise on the drive. It turned out not to be such a good idea as I stumbled over into the wheelie bin, knocking it in to the car and setting its alarm off. Not only that but I had caught my blouse on my bangle and in frustration to free it ripped all the buttons off the front.
I was trying to stand the bin up and hold my shoes at the same time when I heard Dad open the door and click the alarm off "get inside Now" he hissed, I looked up sheepishly at him and could see he was furious. "Don't you look a sight my girl" he sneered as I tried to hold my blouse together at the front not daring to look at him. He pronounced that he had taken all he could from me and he might regret this in the morning but he was going to show me what he thought I deserved. I didn't get any time to think about what he meant when he grabbed hold of my hands and pulled me towards him. For some stupid reason I was more concerned about him looking at my fancy low cut bra than what was about to happen. It felt like one movement as in no time he was sitting on a chair and I was over his knee my head only inches from the floor and my legs dangling helplessly in mid air. I couldn't work out how it happened; my right arm was folded behind my back and he was holding it tight in his left hand leaving his right hand free to flip my skirt up. The more I struggled the tighter he held my arm making it hurt and with a very smug voice said "you have been asking this ever since you moved back haven't you Claire." Of course I couldn't answer him and it was followed by a crisp loud smack to my bum cheek. This was accompanied by several more and I realized that my choice of knickers had provoked him even more. "You can't even have the decency to wear proper underwear can you" as he snapped the elastic of my thong against my bum cheeks.