I was straddling Scott's lap backwards as he sprawled on my couch. My head was leaned back against his shoulder, my eyes closed. His knees were spread, causing my legs to be spread wide, feet dangling on the outside of his legs. My cheerleader skirt was pushed up over my hips and my sweater and bra around my neck. One of his hands caressed my bare breast and the other was down my panties, his finger massaging my swollen clit. I could feel his erection against my ass. We had been dating all through high school and this was our last year. We had both just turned 18 and would soon be leaving for college. It wasn't often that my house was empty and we were making the most of it. My parents were at work and wouldn't be home for hours. I moaned as he slid a finger in my pussy. He pinched my nipple and I squirmed in his lap. I was just about to cum when I heard my father's voice.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!?" he bellowed from the kitchen doorway.
I jumped off Scott's lap, struggling to adjust my clothes. Standing in the middle of the floor, I shook uncontrollably as he turned to Scott.
"Get the fuck out of here," he roared in his drill sergeant voice. "If I ever see your face again, I'll kill you!"
Scott threw me an apologetic look and bolted for the door. I was scared to look at my father. I stood on the rug, looking at the floor.
"Look at me," he commanded. I shook my head.
"NOW!"
I looked up, expecting the worst. He was still in his fatigues from working at the base. His hat was clenched in his hand, his military haircut exposed. His biceps strained the fabric of his shirt, his muscular chest heaving.
"I guess you need a reminder about how to act," he said, striding past me into his den.
Oh my God, he hadn't hit me with his belt for years. That was something you only needed to experience a couple of times before you learned your lesson. He came back into the room carrying it.
"Kitchen!" he said, waiting for me to go ahead of him.
"No, Dad..." I started to protest, but the look in his eye stopped me.
I lowered my head and walked ahead of him into the kitchen. He pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. I started to lie across his lap, but he stopped me.
"No, I want you the same way you were sitting on him," he said, glaring at me. "You need to learn not to act like such a little slut."
"But Dad," I whimpered. Again, the look on his face stopped me. I began to cry as I straddled his lap. He pushed me forward so I was resting my arms on the table in front of us. I was mortified as he lifted my skirt. My legs were spread wide across his muscular thighs and I heard him gasp when my ass was exposed.
"A thong," he thundered, bringing the belt down. I cried out at the first sting.
"No daughter of mine is going to be wearing a thong!"
The belt came down again, and I felt the heat spread across my ass. Tears streamed down my cheeks. It was so humiliating, being spread out in front of my own father. I was mortified. Then the situation began to change. By the third lick, I felt a different heat. It started in the pit of my stomach and spread through my groin. Here I was, totally spread out in front of my father, getting hit with his belt. And it was making me hornier than I had ever been in my life. Each strike of the belt felt like it was going straight to my pussy like an electric shock and my cries of pain turned to moans of pleasure. I squirmed in his lap, trying to bring my aching clit in contact with something, anything. I felt a rush of moisture between my legs as he brought the belt down again.
"What the Hell..." he stammered, surprised. "Are you enjoying this?" In his shock, he stopped hitting me. I glanced back and saw him staring at the dark spot spreading across the crotch of my panties.
"Please Daddy," I whimpered. "Don't stop."
"No," he said softly. "It's not right."
"Please," I begged, wriggling my ass. "It feels so good."
