A girl has to make an embarrassing request

By Jo Green

“Will you spank me please, dad?” There, I had said it! I had been dreading that all the way home, but it was out. All I needed to do was make him say yes.

It was a strange request for a 17-year-old to make of her father, I admit. This is the story of what happened earlier in the day to make me ask such a thing of him.

My name is Jo. I am 17 and attend the sixth form college in the town centre. Three hours earlier, on a sleepy Sunday afternoon in late July, Pauline, and me had been goofing about in the woods. It was cooler there. We were all dressed in tiny t-shirts, short skirts and trainers. Alice had brought a frisbee, and we had been having a good time. We scared a few squirrels at the same time.

On the way back, Pauline had launched the frisbee, hit a tree, and then a street light running down a small alleyway that took us back into the edge of town. What followed was a small chink, bang and then the sound of shattering glass as the frisbee was lost from sight over a high fence. We stood dumbstruck for a second, then I gave Alice and Pauline a boost over the fence which was about 6 feet high, and they both landed with a gasp. I was tasked with keeping watch. I heard quiet murmurs from within and could just make out what they were saying.

“Oh no! Look, glass everywhere,” Pauline said dejectedly.

“It must have hit that bird figurine, which knocked the plant pot off the shelf, which smashed the glass top table. It is a real mess for sure,” Alice told me.

Then, all of a sudden, a third and very much older voice rang out.

“What on earth are you two playing at? My table! My lovely hummingbird statue! My late husband gave me that! What have you done?”

“We are so, so sorry,” Alice stammered.

“Sorry? I find you in my garden, my table smashed, not to mention a loved figurine, and all you can say is sorry?”

“It was a total accident, Mrs, er, sorry, I don’t know your name,” Alice said lamely.

“Mrs Davies. So, you fell from the sky by accident and landed on my table did you?”

Mrs Davies glared as I watched helplessly through a knot-hole in the fence. My friends didn’t know what to do or say for the best. They certainly couldn’t blag their way out of this.

“Well, you see, I threw the frisbee and it hit the tree, then the lamp post, and flew over the fence. I can only presume it started a domino effect,” Pauline explained.

“So, why are you in my garden? To get this thing back, I presume. Luckily, it is all captured on this nifty doorbell camera that my grandson got me for Christmas. He is the desk sergeant at the police station in the town, you know. It will no doubt show your escapades and you breaking into my garden. Any normal person might have used the gate on the drive, but I assume you did not want to be seen,” Mrs Davies continued.

“We are really, really sorry!” Alice was getting quite agitated, as was Pauline. “We will obviously pay for the damage, Mrs Davies.”

“Oh, too right you will, in more ways than one. The hummingbird is irreplaceable. That table cost £60 from the local DIY store!” Mrs Davies announced.

“Oh, that much?” Pauline said, then added, “We’ll need to pop home and get the money.  I have that much left from my birthday last week.”

“You are not getting off that easily. I’ll tell you what. I will give you 3 options and 2 minutes to decide.

My friends looked at each other and then in my direction as I hid behind the fence.

“What do you mean, Mrs Davies?” asked Alice, now sounding quite concerned.

I was utterly helpless to do anything. All I dared to do was keep quiet and still.

“Well, I can call your parents. I see you both have mobile telephones. Or, I can call my grandson at work and ask him if he can pop over or send another police officer,” Mrs Davies announced.

“You said three options? My mum will go ballistic and I don’t want any trouble with the police. We weren’t being deliberately bad, it just, happened,” Alice said, filling the silence deliberately created by Mrs Davies.

“The third option, you will not like but it will keep you out of further trouble.”

“What is that, Mrs Davies?” Pauline almost pleaded.

“The old-fashioned way of dealing with these things. You both take a sound spanking and we will say no more about it, besides paying for the new table!” Mrs Davies theatrically announced.

“This is 2022, Mrs Davies, not 1922. You just can’t give someone a clip round the ear for misbehaving. There are laws against that!” Alice flared, then was quiet.

“That is true, and I am giving it to you to choose as an option for sorting this. Frankly, it does not matter either way to me. I am quite happy to make those phone calls if you are,” Mrs Davies said in a matter-of-fact way.

I knew Alice was still occasionally spanked by her mother. I accidentally overheard her across her mum’s knee after being out way too late the previous night. I suspect Pauline hasn’t been spanked for many years, if ever, judging from her parents’ modern style. I too am spanked. I have a hot temper and a short fuse, and am prone to talking back to my mother. I was feeling terrible at this point. They would be shouldering the blame and punishment, while I would escape it all.

Both girls whispered to each other and again glared in my direction. It was Pauline who broke the silence.

“If you promise that this goes no further, then I would prefer to take the spanking, Mrs Davies,” she said, almost in tears.

“And how about your friend?” Mrs Davies looked at Alice.

“Oh, very well, I will take a spanking too, please,” Alice said crossly.

I presumed some of that anger was aimed at me.

“Very well, girls, that is your choice to make. Let’s not waste time.”

Mrs Davies took one of the chairs from the shattered 5 piece garden set and moved it onto a clear part of the patio before sitting her ample bottom down upon it.

“So, who actually threw the frisbee?”

“It was me,” said Pauline, also raising her hand.

“Very well, you will be the first. Come here, girl. I won’t bite!” Mrs Davies instructed.

Shoulders hunched and head bowed, Pauline walked over to Mrs Davies, her light blue skirt fluttering in the breeze. Mrs Davies took hold of her hand and pulled her, not roughly but unceremoniously, forward and down until her body was draped across the waiting lap. Within a second, her skirt was pulled up exposing a pair of thin cotton yellow panties. I couldn’t help thinking that they will offer scant protection, except for her modesty perhaps. Seconds later I heard a loud smack and an ouch from the other side of the fence. I could hardly watch, but nor could I turn away as my friend received smack after smack on her upturned bottom. Mrs Davies looked about 60 or 65, but could certainly land a whack with her hand at that age. Pauline was crying after the first five or six smacks but her spanking was to be much longer than that; 25 smacks or more, I lost track. Her bottom and upper thighs, from what I could see, were bright red and looked very painful.

Eventually Mrs Davies stopped and told Pauline, “Alright, you may stand up. And stop that blubbering.” Then, looking across to Alice, she said, “Now it is your turn for a sore bottom, young lady.”

Alice did not need telling twice. Clearly, she did not wish to make Mrs Davies any more cross than she already was. She bent straight over her lap without further instruction and soon felt her white skirt being raised and cool air waft across her new bright white skimpy panties.

“Honestly! What you girls think is acceptable underwear these days beggars belief.”

The first smack landed and Alice jumped at its force and sensation. Mrs Davies spanked her at a steady rate of about one smack every three seconds and soon her bum was bright red, made more obvious by the sparseness of the covering. Alice, too, received around 25 smacks during her spanking, but unlike Pauline she did not cry, though her face was the same colour as her backside and tears were glistening on her eyes at the end.

After one last smack, Mrs Davies released her hold on Alice and told her, “Right, you may get up too. I will trust you to bring me the money for the table. I know you are at the college so I can always track you down, or get George, my grandson, to help me. And make sure your partner in crime over behind the fence pays her share too. After all, she has escaped going across my knee, unlike you two. Now, get out and leave me to clear up this mess!”

I didn’t know whether to hide, run, or what. I decided to lurk in the undergrowth until the girls appeared and were clear of the house, which did not take very long.

“I take it you saw all of that, Jo?” said Alice with some justifiable anger. After all, they had just been humiliatingly spanked by an old lady, and I had been watching and escaped punishment.

“Come on, what could I do? No one knew she was in or what had actually happened, and you both asked for my help to get over the fence. I’m sorry, but that was not of my making,” I said a little pathetically, I suppose.

We walked off in relative silence. Alice volunteered to take the money around tomorrow in an envelope, but I was feeling really sorry for my friends who had been rightfully punished, while I had not.

“Look,” I said. “I do not think it fair that you both got the spanking and I didn’t. I can’t do anything about that. I am sorry, like I said. I can, however, ask my mum to spank me instead. Yes, I still get put over her knee occasionally.”

“But then we’ll all get in trouble again, which is why we took the spanking in the first place!” Alice almost shouted.

“No, if I tell her I have done something bad she’ll ask for sure, but if I decline to explain and just ask again, well, she will know I am not doing it for pleasure, but I am sure she’ll spank me good and hard. Goodness knows, she normally doesn’t spare my backside!” I explained.

Pauline almost laughed at the prospect, then added, “Alright, you do that. Take a photo afterwards as proof.”

“Charming! Don’t you trust me, or something? I said, hurt.

“More a case of seeing if your bum is as red as ours!” both girls laughed. Clearly, they were recovering from their spankings.

“Very well, that’s a deal,” I said. “I’ll go and face the music.”

I left the other two and headed home.

“We expect a picture within the hour or you are in big trouble,” Alice called after me.

Dad was in the lounge. I thought he’d be out at the pub or playing golf on a Sunday afternoon.

“Hi dad, is mum around? I have a favour I need to ask of her,” I said cheerily, or as close as I could get to that right now.

“No love, gran has been taken into hospital again. It’s nothing serious, but you know what that pesky nursing home is like,” he explained. I sighed and my shoulders dropped. “What’s the matter, love? You look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.”

I was stuck. Mum was out and would be for some time, and I needed to show my friends that I too had been punished, but dad had not punished me, well not physically, since I was 12. Oh, hell’s bells!

“Dad, I have gotten myself into a spot of bother. I don’t want to go into any details but I need you to do something for me, something you probably won’t want to do,” I blurted out.

“For goodness sake, Jo. You are in a state. Come on, what is it?” he asked kindly, but with a really worried tone to his voice. “What do you need me to do? Do you need money?”

“No Dad, it isn’t that.” Again, I sighed loudly. “Will you spank me, dad?”

“Spank you? No, why? Whatever for? I’m not spanking a 17- year-old just like that without knowing why and whether it is needed,” he said in shock.

“Mum wouldn’t bat an eyelid.”

“I am not your mother. Tell me what has happened and let me decide what action is needed,” he demanded.

I sat down and told him about the woods, the game, the accident and climbing the fence. The choices given by the old lady, who I didn’t name, and what the girls had opted for to avoid further trouble.

“You see, they have both been spanked for their part, and it is not right that I haven’t. It is only fair, and I promised Alice and Pauline I would get mum to do it. They are expecting a picture to prove it. Please dad, I know it is a very odd request, but this is a particularly odd situation, and it can’t wait for mum to get home. Please!” I almost couldn’t believe I was begging to be spanked now!

Dad sat and thought for a few seconds, then shook his head.

“I have not laid a hand on you in anger since you turned 12. I really don’t want to have to do this now,”

“Dad, I need you to!”

He held a hand up to silence me, then said, “But, under the circumstances, you have really given me very little choice in the matter. Alright, I will do it, this once!”

“Thank you, dad.” I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Where shall we do it?” I asked.

He didn’t have a clue. In my younger days, he always did it in my bedroom.

“Shall I go to my room and wait there for you?” I suggested helpfully. I really wanted this over with before he could change his mind.

He nodded silently. I went up to my room and sat on the bed and waited.

I thought he wasn’t coming, but then a few minutes later heard him climb the stairs and knew he was on his way. I stood up, brushed my skirt straight and put my hands behind my back. Although I had left the door half open out of habit, he still knocked before entering and I stood there, head bowed, looking like the naughty girl he had spanked in years gone by.

“You are sure about this, Jo?” he asked one more time.

Without saying anything, I pulled the stool out from my small dressing table. Silently he sat down and looked up at me.

“I am sorry, dad, but please don’t hold back. Spank me long and hard like the girls had to endure.”

I started to bend across his knee. Thinking he would not do it, I pulled my thin white pleated skirt up and tucked it in the waistband so he had a full view of his target and, like my friends, only a thin pair of cotton panties, also white, to protect my modesty.

“I am ready, dad. Please?”

Seconds passed until, quietly but quite suddenly, his hand fell with an almighty smack onto my bottom.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed in surprise.

“Too hard, love?” he asked, like he wanted me to say yes.

“No dad, that is perfect. It just took me by surprise, that’s all. A couple of dozen like that should do fine.”

“How many?” he exclaimed.

“That is how many they took. Look, I am not enjoying being in this position any more than you are. So, if you don’t mind, please just get on with it!”

“Cheeky! This one is definitely from me!” He planted a humongous spank right on my sit spot.

I thought to myself, ‘That is what Mrs Davies did to my friends backsides.’

Dad now started spanking me in a steady rhythm like he used to do, and worked all corners of my bottom. My bum was on fire before he had finished. Dad might not have been enjoying the experience, but he certainly had not lost his technique over the last few years.

“There, I make that 25, plus one!” he said as the final spank landed home.

I was not crying as such, but tears were certainly blurring my vision right now. I carefully raised myself back onto my feet and rubbed my sore bottom under my skirt as dad stood up as well. Again, I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, dad. Please, can this stay between us? Mum doesn’t need to know?” I asked.

“Okay, it is our secret. Besides, I do not want to be back on spanking duties as far as you are concerned, thank you very much. I will leave you to, er, sort yourself out, love,” he said tenderly.

“Love you, dad. Thank you!”

He smiled back as he gently closed the door behind him.

After a moment of looking in the mirror, I took off my little skirt and took a picture for Alice and Pauline. For good measure, I put my thumbs in the band of my panties and pulled them down to the bottom of my buttocks and took another picture, proving I had been thoroughly spanked.

I quickly typed a message: Mum at gran’s. Dad reluctantly substituted and proves he still has what it takes.

I attached the two images and hit send.

Seconds later, I got a message from Alice and Pauline with the words: All friends again.

I knew then it had been worth getting dad to spank me.

The End

© Jo Green 2022