Crystal is a lovely girl I met on Literotica who has attempted to edit my work. Thank you! But she also comes up with some story ideas. Here's one that has a lot of truth to it, with me retelling.
Sitting at the bustling coffee shop early one Saturday morning I was simply relaxing while sipping java and perusing the morning paper's blood, gore and government acting badly.
I could not help but eavesdrop a couple nearby that was lamenting about their teen age daughter that was consistently driving them over the edge.
She would sneak out after bedtime for a tryst with a current boyfriend. She'd break curfew on a whim. She'd borrow on her allowance even though she had a part-time job. Two tickets for speeding meant she, and the dad, had to go to driver's school. She's run up the father's credit card before he cut her off. Most recently some cash had been missing from his wallet.
Oh, they'd ground her, they'd make her do chores, they would beg and cajole, you name it, they tried it. Getting their daughter on the straight and narrow course toward future success was just a dream. They were happy she had not gotten knocked up, flunked or been fired from her job.
"What that girl needed was a good spanking years ago," said the perplexed father. "As if you'd have let me. That's what my parents would have done. A good old butt hurting spanking."
The wife shook her head. "Oh John. Don't be ridiculous. Spankings went out of favor years ago. They don't work."
"Well, Janet, if they don't work, how come you and I made out as well as we did? I remember getting the switch on more than one occasion, and I know your pretty little ass was reddened by your mother too."
A different time, I thought, back when parents had the ability to quickly set a kid straight through fear, a little paddle and some harsh words all given in love. These days such actions would cause child protective services to visit or maybe even a lawsuit from the child!
Damn, times have changed. I felt old. If things get better with age, I can think of a dozen things that don't. Nothing is like your first kiss, for instance.
Mary and I had been lucky. We had two good kids that both were in college. I will say that I had taken the belt to both at one time or another. We didn't talk about it, but my wife and I had spanked our children, starting with the wheeze of a scream that first time eating out at a diner and ending when our youngest daughter was 17 and was caught cheating on a test.
Mary yelled at her, I spanked her behind. My daughter's ass, not my wife's...but there's another story in there somewhere. In any event, it wasn't at a whim; spankings were only there for the most dastardly of offenses. But the girls knew what would happen if mom threatened them with telling good old dad about some transgression.
The girls learned early to behave, to listen, to be good kids. And they were today.
So what does that have to do with the price of rice in China?
Mary and I were speaking recently about her sister Rachel and the difficulties she'd had in recent years. Worst was the loss of her husband Rick in a terrible car crash three years before. There was some insurance, but not enough from forcing Rachel to ultimately go back to work to make ends meet.
Their daughter Bailey rebelled about just about everything after her dad's death, and months of counseling didn't help. She was a terror and mom was flummoxed with how to deal with the girl. Oh, she gave her a lot of rope, hoping Bailey would shake out of things and become the kind of young woman she hoped. But that didn't seem to be happening.
In some ways, she seemed to be rebelling and hating the world because of her father's death. In others, she was merely a spoiled brat.
The sisters talked nearly daily, and Mary knew Rachel was at wits end. Somewhere in the conversation Rachel admitted that if her husband was alive she knew what would have happened. He'd have taken the now 18-year-old girl over his knees and smacked that behind to teach her a much needed lesson.
The two agreed that would probably help the situation, but with all that had happened it wasn't an option. Or was it?
Mary and I were having dinner when she brought up the topic, telling the story and wondering what my thoughts were. I relayed the story of the couple at the coffee shop and my own two cents that their daughter, as well as Rachel's, was prime candidates for correction.
Then came the shocker. "Rob, I don't think Rachel can spank Bailey, it's just not in her. She can't. So, would you give that girl a lesson like your father gave you? Would you spank Rachel's daughter."
Incredulous, I shook my head. "That's not my job, not my role."
My wife replied that she was asking a favor, that it was family, and Rachel had a terrible dilemma and needed the help of a man. That it was a change to set Bailey straight, get her turned around and maybe get some sense in her. With her husband gone she needed help, and I was the one to help.
Long discussion ensued but in the end I saw the wisdom in at least considering the option. I agreed to talk with Rachel and discuss the situation, the ramifications, and while not promising anything I said we could together as a family triumvirate discuss and come up with a plan of attack.
Two nights later Mary, Rachel and I visited. We were at Rachel's house, and she quickly pointed out what a mess it was and how Bailey didn't lift a finger to help around the house. She complained that the girl had been a young terror since her 18th birthday, threatening to leave and so forth.
But at the same time she was a good girl at heart, helping others outside the home at times.
Still, the bad outweigh the good by tenfold and Rachel was seriously concerned that if she left home at this point only bad things would happen.
"I love my baby; I know she's good at heart. She just needs some direction that I can't give."
The women insisted that a man's direction was what she needed, and in the end I said I'd consider becoming a surrogate father from a disciple standpoint. I begged off the question for a week, hoping the girl would turn things around on her own and it would be a moot point.
@ @ @ @
About 10 days after the tree of us met, Mary hit me with the news that Bailey had been caught in a school coat room giving head to a classmate.
Sucking her boyfriend's dick in school wasn't a summary offense. It was problems! The school had suspended her and the boy for three days and was given one last chance to graduate if they were squeaky clean for the rest of the semester.
Rachel grounded the girl, only to be cursed at as Bailey strode to her room. It was time to act, according to Mary, and she insisted I get over to her sister's house with her and handle the situation.
We arrived a half hour later and Rachel met us in a complete thither. Bailey was acting more like a 12-year-old girl than an 18-year-old young woman.
"I'm at wits end, I can't take this anymore. My own daughter told me to fuck myself. My own daughter!"
The three of us talked for a couple minutes and I was assured by the two women that I was to take matters in my own hands and correct the girl. Now. Rachel called for her daughter, who told her to "screw off". Rachel insisted the girl come down, as Mary and I were there.
Reluctantly, almost defiantly, the girl soon came into the room. Dressed in a tee top and sweat pants, Bailey almost smirked at her mother as she cooed to my wife about her flowery flowing dress.
"That dress looks so good on you, Aunt Mary, you look great! Have you lost weight?"
The girl transformed herself into a little miss perfect right in front of us. Once she knew we were there she was a little sweetheart of a girl. She talked about school, about some crafts she was working on, and how she was completing some college applications.
Nowhere was a mention of her being on her knees in the coat room, disrespecting her mother or anything else that would keep her from being perfect in our eyes.
After a bit the women left the room, supposedly to get refreshments, leaving Bailey and I alone. We were sitting next to each other on the couch, and began talking about this and that.
Cutting to the chase, I asked her how her senior year at school was going and she replied how wonderful everything was. Good grades, good friends, dating several guys and so forth.
"So what's this about the coat room incident?"
Her face went blank as she was taken aback. She sort of hemmed and hawed about some dither, making little sense.
"You know, Bailey, you've been a bad girl. You'd treated your mother like crap, and you are not the innocent little perfect girl you pretend to be. You are begging to be pushed in the right direction. If your father was here he'd have taken care of things ages ago, but he's not. Now, I will. I think it's time you received what was coming to you. A real spanking to knock some sense into you."
The girl laughed. I believe she thought I was joking. The smirk on her face was precious. We stared at each other.
Shocked, the girl spat the words "you wouldn't dare."
"Oh wouldn't I?" That was all I said as I grasp her arm and pulled her over my knees in one pull.
She attempted to pull away but I held her down with one hand while tugging down her sweatpants with the other. I couldn't get them past the bottom of her behind, but clearly down far enough where her form-fitting pink panties with the lace fringe were bared to my eyes. The girl shouted for her mother to help, but that cry was met with deaf ears.
