Help Wanted

A stepdaughter disappoints, and gets dealt with. By a new writer to us.

By Seymour Jay

I own an automotive sales and repair facility. I recently had a ‘help wanted’ ad displayed, looking for office type help. Melanie came in looking for work.

Melanie was at one time my stepdaughter. Her mother and I were married for about 5 years. We had been separated for about 6 years. I had not seen Melanie since her mother and I separated.

I greeted Melanie and invited her to my office to talk about her employment possibilities and to catch up for the last 5 years. She and I were always close when her mother and I were married, but after the separation it was best for all parties that we all went our separate ways. Melanie was now 21 years old. I suppose that I had not seen her since she was 15 or 16 years old.

She was an average looking 21 year old young lady. Brown shoulder length hair. She was about 5 foot 2 inches tall, I would guess, and a bit overweight. She was not obese but a good 15-20 lbs heavier than average. When I first met her, she was about 9-10 years old and she had received very little guidance in her life. Over the time I spent in her life, she was starting to become a respectful young lady.

After the divorce, I had heard she was starting to resort back to her old ways. She had picked up smoking from her mother. She also had a bit of a foul mouth, also probably thanks to her mother. After we talked about old times for awhile, our attention then turned to employment. She was looking a job and we needed a full time office person. She was hired.

Melanie started work the next week and things went well with her work. She fitted in well with other employees and she was a benefit to my business.

After a month or so, I noticed there was $100 short from what I felt should have been in the cash box. I went back and examined the camera footage to see if and who would have misplaced the money. After about an hour of watching the footage, I concentrated on one short clip of it. I could see Melanie slowly slipping a $100 bill to her lap as she placed money into the drawer. Then after a minute or so she slid it down the front of her jeans. I was furious. I was both angry that she had taken the money, and disappointed that she had stolen from me. I would have hoped the 5 years I spent raising her would have had some lasting effect on her.

Just before closing time, I called her to my office and asked her to please have a seat. She could see I was angry at something. She asked if I was alright. I stopped her in mid-sentence.

I said: “I hope that the $100 you took yesterday is well worth the lesson you will learn from being arrested for the first time in your life!”

“What!” She exclaimed.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You know damn good and well what I am talking about. You took $100 from the cash drawer and this is theft. I plan to have you arrested. I have it on video and there is no doubt that what I am saying is the truth.”

Melanie started to cry.

I yelled: “Don’t cry now. You done the crime, now you can do a night in jail. I tried to teach you a lesson about stealing about 7 years ago when you stole from your mother’s purse. Your mom called me at work and demanded I come home and whip you with the belt. I for sure would have thought your would never forget that.”

“I have not forgot it,” Melanie exclaimed in tears. “Please don’t have me arrested. I will not steal ever again. My mom will be devastated if I’m arrested. My grandpa will be more devastated than mom.”

I could not care less what her mom felt about Melanie getting arrested. Melanie’s mother and I had not spoken in years and I truly planned to never speak to her again. As for her grandpa, I had a lot of respect for him. If she was arrested, he would have been devastated.

I told Melanie there was really no other option other than having her arrested. She was an adult and obviously theft was a crime. A previous office employee I had a few years before had stolen some money and there was no issue with having her arrested. The police looked at the video, turned it over to the prosecutors, and in less than 24 hours the police served the warrant for arrest.

Melanie just looked at me and sobbed. “You are really going to have me arrested like the other girl?”

“Of course I am. I have no other choice.”

Melanie said: “There are other choices. I am your step daughter. We can forget about it and move on. I’ll promise to never steal again.”

I laughed angrily. “Not a chance. You promised me that 7 years ago, and you can see how well that went.”

Even more in panic mode, she started grasping for any escape route. “What about my grandpa? He will disown me. Please!” She pleaded. “Do anything, just don’t arrest me.”

“What do you suggest is a just punishment if you are not arrested?” I asked.

Melanie had no answer. Just a blank stare.

“You can go ahead and go home. Don’t bother coming In tomorrow. I don’t need a thief. I will call the police after you leave and let them watch the video and take it from there.”

She stood up crying uncontrollably and walked out.

Within a few minutes, as I contemplated calling the police, she began texting me. More of the same bullshit excuses she had before. I just ignored them and didn’t respond. One text, then another from her. Then, after several unanswered messages, the last one said: ‘I can’t think of a punishment other than the whipping you gave me years ago. Mom never cared enough to teach me right from wrong; she made you try to teach me. So the only time I have been punished in life was that time. I really don’t want to be arrested. If you will consider giving me a spanking now for all the times mom should have before, punishment for stealing, I really would appreciate not having to go to jail!’

All along, I was looking for some alternative to involving the police. I really didn’t want to have Melanie arrested. I finally responded and texted her back.

‘You are hardly still a child. I would feel very awkward about spanking you. If you agree to me punishing you rather than being arrested it will hardly be a spanking at all. It will be with the belt just like last time. You make the decision.’

Shortly, I heard a knock at my office front door. I had already locked up since it was after closing time at this point. I went to the door. It was Melanie. She came in and sat down.

Still crying, she said: “Please don’t arrest me. Just spank me or whatever.”

“Melanie, I don’t want to have you arrested but there has to be a punishment or you will have gotten off the hook with nothing.”

“What alternative will you allow me for not getting arrested?” She asked.

“I guess a whipping, since that is the only alternative punishment you could think of,” I said awkwardly.

“I mean what kind of spanking? Like, how? And how many swats or whatever?” Melanie asked, grasping for the right words. “Last time you gave me the option of so many swats over my jeans, or a few less of they were on my underwear, or a few less if I took it on my bare butt.”

“It will be with the belt and will be bare butt this time. No options there. I was thinking 20 HARD licks this time. No moderate swats like last time.” I said.

“Last time was moderate? Fuck! Are you kidding? I thought I was dying from pain!”

“That’s the deal. You either want it or you don’t. You suggested it as opposed to the alternative. Take it or leave it?” I demanded.

“I’ll do it, since the other option is worse. When do you want to do it?” Melanie asked.

“Tonight, if you want to work tomorrow. Or you can be off work without pay until we resolve it. I also fully expect the $100 repaid next pay check.”

“Okay, I suppose I have no other option.”

“Well, go home and get your supper and come to my home at 9:30 or so and we will get this over with.”

We both left. I headed to my house and she headed to her apartment. I had dinner and got a shower. I then went to look for the belt. I normally didn’t wear one. I went to the basement and opened the cabinet. There laid the belt I used last time. I assume my ex-wife had left it when she moved out. It was a very old belt for a very large man. It was about 2 inches wide and really wore out. It was really flexible due to it being worn out. My ex-wife said she found it in one of our rental properties when she was cleaning it up after the client had moved out. I could not believe how incredibly long it was. The man it belonged to had to be huge. I then went back upstairs and watched TV.

At about 9:30, I anticipated Melanie showing up. It wasn’t until about 10 when she finally knocked. When I opened the door she was dressed nicely in blue jeans and a loose fitting white top that hung to below her waistline. She had her hair fixed nicely and makeup on. She was wearing flip flops and carrying a small purse.

“You didn’t have to get dressed up for the occasion,” I said.

Melanie just kinda smiled awkwardly and walked into the foyer.

“I really liked it when mom and I lived here,” she said. “I really wish we still did. Some of the best years of my life were spent in this house.”

“I really enjoyed it also, but things just weren’t meant to be. I hope you understand.” I told her.

“If you and mom had stayed together, I wouldn’t be here under these circumstances tonight. I would have been much better off.”

“I am glad you think so. I feel honored to have been a part of your life. I am not so honored to have to witness you stealing money and to have to punish you like a child at 21 years old.”

“I was hoping you would have forgotten about that, maybe. I thought, since I was fixed up all pretty, you would see me as I were when you used to adore me as a kid.”

“I am afraid it isn’t like that. You were to come here to settle a debt, to take your punishment like a woman. So, if you would like to make your way to the basement I think you know where to go.”

In my basement, half of it was unfinished, and the other half was a game room. It had a sofa, TV, and a pool table.

Melanie made her way down the steps and toward the game room door. I was following her a few steps behind. Once inside, she had a seat on the sofa. I went to the cabinet, took the belt from it and laid it on the pool table. Her eyes looked horrified as tears started to build in her eyes.

“Melanie, I don’t want to do this anymore than you don’t want me to. So let’s make this as easy of an experience as possible. I will turn away as you stand and face the pool table. Take your jeans and underwear either off or down past your knees and bend over the table placing your elbows on the table. When you are ready, tell me and I will turn back around.”

As I turned my back to her, she stood up and I could hear her walk to the table and sniffles from her nose. I could hear her unbutton and unzip her tight jeans.

After a few more seconds, she said: “Okay.”

I turned back around to the table. She was bent over, just as I asked. Her jeans were bunched up at her knees. I didn’t see any sign of her panties. I assumed she hadn’t worn any. And her flip flops were laid beside the sofa. Her loose fitting white top was hung down about half way, covering her backside.

“Melanie, you need to do something with your shirt. Pull it up and let it rest on your back or take it off.

She pulled it up to her back and pulled it tight up under her stomach to keep it from falling. Being a slight bit heavier than an average woman of her height, her bottom was a bit rounder than it looked in the tight jeans she normally wore. I took the belt from the table and she let out a gasp. I folded it double and wrapped it around my hand once.

I told her I didn’t want to do this but I had to.

She said: “Then don’t do it.”

“I’m afraid it has to be done.”

And with that, I laid the belt softly on her ass cheeks and without warning, drew back and swung the belt full force and landed it squarely on her backside. Melanie jumped up to her feet with a scream. She took her hands and rubbed her bottom.

“Melanie, you are gonna have to stay in position or we will be here all night. Elbows on the table, and bottom in the air, please. After each 5 strokes, we will stop for a break.”

She bent back over and her top again was in the way.

“Tuck the back of your blouse in the back of your bra strap or take it off. The next time it falls, you will remove your blouse all together.”

She tucked the back of her blouse under her bra strap and bent back over. Her jeans had fallen all the way to her ankles. The backs of her legs all the way up to her bottom were now bare.

I softly laid the belt on her bottom. I then pulled back and swung the belt full force and landed it on her backside, then landed 3 more one after another at full force. She was screaming and moving around. It was all I could do to try to control her movement with my left hand on her waist as I was using the belt with my right arm.

She jumped to her feet after the 5th stroke and rubbed her bottom. She turned around toward me so as to protect her rear for a few seconds. She then realized she had shed any modesty she was trying to keep by facing me naked from the waist down. Her hands quickly went front and center to cover herself before turning back to the table. She had tears rolling down her face and her make up was slowly starting to become a mess.

After she had a minute to compose herself, I told her to bend back over the table for the next 5 swats. She did as she was told. Her bottom showed 5 wide red marks across it. I laid the soft leather gently on her backside and again without notice I drew back and swung full force. As it landed she howled and violently jerked. I quickly took the belt back and landed another and another. I was literally swinging as fast as I could, one after another. On the tenth stroke I landed rather low and got the backs of her legs. Melanie screamed louder than ever. She jumped to her feet and began to rub her welted buttocks. She stayed facing the table this time to protect what was left of her modesty. She was starting to sob uncontrollably.

She asked if we could be done. Absolutely not! We agreed to 20, and 20 it was.

“Can I at least go to the rest room?”

“Sure.”

She pulled her blouse from the back of her bra and let it fall. It just barely covered her bottom. She walked to the bathroom just to the other side of the room. She was in there for a good 5 minutes. I hollered for her to hurry up. Time was wasting. After another minute, she returned. As she approached I could see her makeup was very much smeared from the tears. Her blouse covered her down to the top of her thighs.

“How about another 5 and be done?” she asked. “Please?”

“That isn’t the agreement. No one forced you to steal. No one forced you to take this option. 10 more and then we are done, so get back over the table and we will get on with it.”

Melanie bent back over table. She didn’t reposition her blouse.

“Melanie, get that shirt hiked up.”

She pulled it up her back and tucked it under her stomach.

“Ten down, and ten to go,” I told her.

She whimpered as I laid the strap on her plump bottom. I drew back and swung full force and connected again with the backs of her legs. That seems to be where I got the best reaction. As it connected, she jumped and screamed. Her shirt then fell down as she bent back over.

“Get it off!” I demanded.

“What?” She screamed.

“The shirt; I told you to do something with it so it would not get in the way again, or you would remove it all together.”

“Please. I forgot. Please.”

“Get it off, Melanie. I won’t tell you again.”

“Please! I promise. Please!”

“Just do it, Melanie. You have 9 to go. You will get 9 straight now for arguing.”

She started to slowly pull the shirt up and over her head. She was now fully naked except for her bra. She was a bit plump around the waist but appeared to be fairly well endowed in the chest.

“It is time to bend back over and get this over with. Nine more, with no more interruptions.”

Melanie bent back over the table with a gasp.

“Now, hold still. Nine in a row,” I said somewhat angrily. I was getting tired of the interruptions.

Once she was in position I drew back and laid it on her literally as hard as I could out of anger. I quickly drew back and laid the next 3 as fast as I could and as hard as I could. Melanie was jumping uncontrollably. Her backside was red from mid thigh to the small of her back.

She turned to me and pleaded to be done. By this time, she had no concern for modesty, facing me with nothing covering her but her bra.

“Please daddy. Please.”

“Melanie, I’m not your dad anymore. I just want to get this over. Now you have 5 more coming so let’s get through it. Turn back around and get your face down and bottom up to finish this.”

She turned to the table and bent back over. She was just laying across the table. No more elbows on table. I really didn’t care. I just wanted it over.

“Please go easy on me, please!” She screamed in fear.

“Okay,” I said.

I drew back and gave her the last 5 as hard as I could possibly swing and as fast as I could in hopes she would hold in position to get this done. She danced around as each blow landed, screaming at the top of her lungs. After the last stoke landed she fell to her knees beside the table and wept.

“Get up! Go to the bathroom and get your clothes back on.”

She stood up and rubbed her welted backside. She was heavily marked from thigh to lower back. As she picked up her clothes and grabbed her purse and went into the bathroom, her make up was smeared all down her face. After she was in there for a few minutes she opened the door and came out wearing a loose fitting sun dress and was carrying her folded jeans and white top.

“I brought this dress in my purse to wear since I figured I wouldn’t want to wear jeans after I got my bottom beat.”

“That was good thinking,” I said.

“Do you think I could just stay here tonight? Sleep in my old room for old time’s sake?” Melanie asked. “Plus, it is late.”

“I guess that would be okay,” I said.

The two of us went up stairs and I followed her to her old room.

She said: “I really am sorry I stole from you, but what you done tonight showed me that someone really does still care about me. I feel this will change me.”

She turned and went into her old room and said goodnight.

The End

© Seymour Jay 2019


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