Blackmail

Blackmail...a “Little One” story (M/f)-part 1

(Author’s Note: Okay, got this idea from a rerun of Little House on the Prairie. Don’t laugh. In the episode, Laura didn’t even get into trouble, but Nellie got the belt. Not that they showed it or anything! Enjoy our version!)

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I was sitting on my bed reading a book. It was one of those cool books, with the buttons to press and it made noises, and then there were pop-ups too. It was a cool book, and I had wanted one like it for some time now. Daddy came in to tuck me in.

“Oh my,” he said. My daddy always said dumb sayings like “oh my”. “Isn't that the book you were going to ask for on your birthday? Did you borrow it from a friend?”

I looked up at him. “No, Daddy, my friend, Becky, gave it to me.”

Daddy was surprised. He raised his eyebrows. “Really? That is quite a gift. I hope that you said a very nice thank you to Becky.”

“She said she had tons of them and didn't need this one,” I explained. I kept reading and pushing the buttons. Daddy sat with me for a while and we read together, until it was time for me to be tucked in. I placed the book under my bed.

A few days later, Daddy found me in the dining room. I was feeling really down. I had been moping around the house for days, but I wasn’t ready to explain to Daddy how come. I had really screwed up and was afraid to tell him about it.

Daddy said, “Hey there, little one. How was school? You look a bit down, is there anything wrong?”

I looked up from doing my homework. “School was okay, I guess,” I said.

“Okay, but is there anything else wrong? If there is, maybe I can help,” Daddy said, all concerned. If I had been smart, I would have told him right then and there. But this time I had done something very wrong, and I did not want to tell him.

“No, it's okay. I'm gonna go play in my room,” I said, putting my homework in my bookbag and running off.

A bit later, Daddy came up to my room. I guess he was checking on me. I was sitting on my bed, looking at the book. I wasn’t pressing any of the buttons. Only I knew it wouldn’t have done any good; the book did not work anymore. It was broken.

When I saw Daddy standing in the doorway of my room, I quickly threw the book under the bed. I knew I should have closed my door. I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to him yet.

Daddy came in and sat on my bed. “Little one, what is it? I can tell you aren't happy about something.” He pointed under my bed. “Don't you like that book anymore?”

“Yeah, it's okay,” I said in kind of a sad voice. I had been doing stuff I didn’t want to do all week. I definitely did not want to tell Daddy anything. “I'm hungry, Daddy, let's go eat,” I said thinking fast. It was almost dinnertime, and since I hadn’t done anything wrong that Daddy knew about, he didn’t press. He let me lead him downstairs.

I think Daddy was keeping his eye on me, but he hadn’t said a word. It was only when a few days later, I hung up the phone angrily, that he followed me to see what was wrong.

”Little one, is there a problem? Are you having a spat with a friend?”

I simply nodded. Then I started to cry. “She said something mean about one of my other friends,” I admitted. As soon as I said it, though, I thought of something. I looked at Daddy and shouted, “But don't tell her mom. I mean, it's okay, I can handle it by myself, Daddy.”

“Are you sure, Samantha? And even if you don't want me to talk to her parents, would you like to talk it out with me?”

I was surprised that Daddy didn’t scold me for shouting. I guess he realized I was upset and didn’t mean to yell at him.

”Um, no, sir, it's okay,” I said, kind of sad. “I want to work it out by myself.”

Daddy nodded and again, he didn’t press.

By the end of the second week of making myself miserable, I sought Daddy out. It was after dinner. He was doing some work in the den. Mommy was at a PTA meeting. “Uh, Daddy? Can I talk to you?” I asked, cautiously.

He put down what he was working on and said, “Sure little one, what is it?”

I knew I’d be in trouble soon, and wouldn’t be able to sit. So while I was still “good” in Daddy’s book, I climbed up into his lap and cuddled for a bit. He seemed surprised but put his arms around me and held me close.

“Daddy? Remember that book from Becky?”

“The book she gave you, little one?”

“Yeah, that one. It broke. But...”

“I’m sorry it broke. These things happen. But what, little one?”

“Umm, well, she didn't give it to me, Daddy,” I said quietly, looking down at my lap.

“What do you mean she didn't give it to you? You mean it was only borrowed?”

“Not exactly,” I said, starting to cry. I looked up into Daddy’s face. I hated when I disappointed him. And I knew what I was about to tell him would surely disappoint him. “I t-t-took it, Daddy.”

“You *took* it? Without asking, you mean?”

Slowly I nodded my head. “Y-y-yes, sir. I wanted it so bad, and she had so many of them. I didn't think she'd notice, Daddy,” I cried.

Daddy looked down at me sitting in his lap and said, “Samantha Karen, I’m surprised at you; taking things without asking is stealing, you know that. And you lied to me about it, too, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Daddddddy!” I wailed. I was already disappointed in myself. And there was more. I hated to even tell him...but I had to.

Daddy sighed and said, “Well, is that all, or is there more?”

It was weird. Almost like he read my mind. I nodded and he said, “Tell me.”

“Well, Becky knew I had the book, Daddy, and she made me do stuff for her and be mean to my other friends, just so she wouldn't tell you I took the book. But I was afraid of getting into trouble, so I did what she said,” I explained. I was already crying and looking at the floor as if the carpet suddenly had a very interesting pattern.

“I see. Is that everything?”

I just nodded.

“Well, does it feel a bit better to have it all out in the open?” Daddy asked. He wasn’t shouting, but I could tell he wasn’t happy, either.

”Yes, but now I'm in trouble, anyway, aren't I?” I asked. My lower lip was trembling, so I bit it.

“Yes,” Daddy said. Then he added, “But not nearly as much as if you hadn't told me about it. Still, I am disappointed in your actions. You know better than to steal, and to lie to me. You are in trouble for that. Now please go wait for me in the corner of your bedroom -- I have a phone call to make. Then I willl be up,” Daddy said, putting me down on the floor. He pointed to the door.

“Yes, sir,” I said. I was afraid. I had a feeling he was going to call Becky’s parents. She would be mad that I told, cuz now she wouldn’t be able to use me as her slave anymore. But she couldn’t be mad at me, so I guess it wouldn’t be so bad. At least her reign of terror was over.

I went up to my room and changed into my pajamas. As I waited in the corner, I thought back to what had happened the past couple of weeks.

I had gone to visit Becky. She’s a few years older than me and lived down the street. She was rich and had more toys and books and dolls than any ten kids I knew. She barely ever even looked at the stuff for more than a minute. Once she read a book, she never read it again.

So I had been looking at the music book...the one where you press the buttons when it told you to. She laughed at me for liking it so much. Mommy and Daddy had promised me that they’d buy me one for my birthday...but that was so long off. I wanted it then.

I knew Becky wouldn’t even miss it. So I slipped it into my bookbag when she wasn’t looking and brought it home. A few days later, she saw it in my room when she came to play after school. She knew right away it was hers cuz she knew I didn’t have any like that.

She was gonna tell on me that I took it. But I made her promise not to. I knew Daddy would be very disappointed in me. I didn’t want him to know I had stolen the book. I told her I would do “anything” if she would keep it to herself.

She turned to me and said, “Anything?”

Stupidly, I nodded.

It was then that she told me her master plan. First of all, I had to do everything she told me to. Essentially, I became her slave. Also, she made me make fun of some of my friends that she didn’t like. I felt rotten doing it, but in return, I got to keep the book and she wouldn’t tell on me.

I was brought back to reality when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Daddy appeared in my bedroom doorway and saw me standing in the corner. I didn’t dare turn around until he told me to.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Daddy said, “Samantha, turn around.” I did. “Do you understand why you are in trouble?”

I looked at Daddy and nodded. “Cuz I taked the book, Daddy? And didn't tell you?”

”Yes, and you told me it was a gift when I asked you. What was that, young lady?”

“A fib?”

“Not just a fib. It was an out and out lie, wasn't it?”

”Uh, y-y-yes, sir.” Now I knew I was in for it, but I had to try a little to lessen my punishment. “But Daddy? Becky had so many; she didn't need that one, and she didn't care that I had it. But then she made me do stuff and, and...” I rambled.

“She couldn't have ‘made you do stuff’ if you hadn't stolen it, and you knew that was wrong. If you hadn't known it was wrong, you wouldn't have had any reason to do things for her, would you? You knew that you would be in trouble when I found out, right?”

Very quietly I said, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Come here, Samantha.”

When I walked over to Daddy, he said, “Now she wasn't at all nice to take advantage of you that way, but that doesn't excuse your stealing or lying. Nor does her having lots of things. It is just as wrong to steal from someone who has lots as from someone who doesn't have much. Do you understand that?”

I nodded, already crying.

“Well, then you have a good spanking and a soaping coming. Do you have anything else to say first?”

“N-no, sir,” I said. I was sad knowing I was in big trouble. Then again, in a way, I was glad the truth was out. I knew I would be punished, but then it would be all over and I would be forgiven. And also Becky no longer had anything against me.

Daddy picked up the hairbrush. As I looked at it and mentally prepared for my spanking, I said, “Daddy? Are you really mad at me?”

“Well, I am unhappy with the way you acted, yes. And I am going to punish you for what you did. But I still love you and I always will, no matter what. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m ready,” I said.

Daddy took down my pajama bottoms and my panties and lifted me over his lap. He started to paddle me with the brush. Hard. {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!}

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!” I screamed. I knew it was coming and I had prepared myself, but I guess I forgot how much it hurt.

{Crack!} {Crack!} “You will not {Crack!} {Crack!} steal. {Crack!} {Crack!} Not from Becky; {Crack!} not from anyone. {Crack!} No matter {Crack!} how many things {Crack!} they have {Crack!} or don't have.” {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!}

“Owww, yes, sirrrrrrrrrr!” I cried. I felt like my rear end was on fire. And Daddy wasn’t near finished yet. And I knew it.

{Crack!} {Crack!} “And you will not {Crack!} lie to me; {Crack!} not ever! {Crack!} {Crack!} That is never acceptable and you know it.” {Crack!}

“Yes, I knowwwwwwwwww,” I cried. “I sorrrrrrrrrry, Dadddddy!”

{Crack!} {Crack!} “And when Becky starting ‘making’ you do things, {Crack!} you should have told, rather than do {Crack!} mean things to others {Crack!} or let her get away with that kind {Crack!} of nonsense.” {Crack!}

“Owwwwww, yes, Dadddy, waaaaaaaaaah, I sorry, I sorry, I won't do it again,” I pleaded, crying so hard. I didn’t think I could take much more.

{Crack!} {Crack!} “You had better not, {Crack!} young lady. {Crack!} You knew this was wrong {Crack!} and you did it anyway. {Crack!} I don't want to have to {Crack!} punish you {Crack!} for this kind of thing again. {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} All right, your spanking is over, Samantha.”

I stood up and rubbed my bottom rigorously. Man, that had really hurt. “Oww, that hurt, Daddy, but I guess I deserved it, huh? I'm sorry!”

I cried on Daddy’s shoulder as he held me tight. I felt better now that I had been punished, actually. It had felt wrong to be mean to my friends; but it was something I felt I had no choice over. I learned a lesson though. Next time, if there ever was a next time, I would just tell the truth from the beginning. I hoped I could remember that.

Daddy led me into the bathroom, made me sit on the closed toilet seat and slipped the bar of soap into my mouth. It was so yucky and when I told Daddy that, he reminded me that lies were yucky. Why couldn’t I remember that? I asked myself.

After a few minutes, Daddy let me rinse. I then brushed my teeth and washed my face. I was all ready for bed. Before Daddy tucked me in, though, he cuddled me for a few more minutes.

The room was quiet. “Daddy? How could I have avoided being in such big trouble, even if I had still taken the book?” I asked.

“Well, if you hadn't lied when I asked you about it, that would have helped. Even better if you had told on yourself before I asked.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir. But you still love me, Daddy?” I asked. I knew the answer but I still needed to hear Daddy say it.

“Of course I do, little one. I will always love you, no matter what,” Daddy said.

Daddy hugged me so tight then, and I felt so loved. Then he picked me up and deposited me in my bed. I tried not to cry with all the love I felt for Daddy. He took such good care of me. I was going to try to be good. I reached up for one more hug and said, “I love you, too, Daddy.”

Daddy kissed my forehead, handed me my teddy bear, and finished tucking me in. He walked out quietly.

Meanwhile, down the street...

(to be continued)

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Blackmail...a “Little One” story (M/f)-part 2

(continued from part one. please go to www.geocities.com/dlandhill/ for disclaimers on all our stories)

I was lying on my bed, listening to the radio when I heard my father’s voice booming, “Rebecca Matilda, come down here right now!”

Rebecca Matilda! Isn’t that awful? I mean, Rebecca is okay, but Matilda? It made you never want to get into trouble, just so you wouldn’t have to hear that name. Unfortunately, I was frequently in trouble.

I went to the top of the stairs and yelled down, “Yes, Dad?”

“Rebecca, come downstairs. We need to talk.”

Arrrgh! I had no idea what I had done, but when Daddy says we need to talk, it is not a good sign.

I went downstairs and found my dad in the living room. He was pacing, hands on hips. Boy, he looked pissed. “Yes, sir?” I asked.

He looked at me and said, “Rebecca, is there anything going on that I should know about?”

I thought about it. He had asked in a voice that sounded upset. I had no idea what he was implying so I just said, “Umm, uhhh, n-no, Daddy, nothing I can think of, why?”

Daddy pointed to the phone and said, “I just hung up with Mr. Leonard, Samantha’s father. He had some information I was not pleased to hear. Does that remind you of anything?”

Oh man, Sammie had told. What should I say? I thought about it and figured I’d act all cool. “Mr. Leonard? Umm, no. Oh wait, you know, I think Samantha might have taken one of my books,” I said in mock surprise. Then I added, “Yeah, and she didn't return it. Let me go look right now.” I started to turn away.

“Rebecca Matilda, don't you dare try to lie to me anymore. Is it true that you were forcing Samantha to do things for you by threatening to tell on her?”

“Forcing her? What? What do you mean, Daddy?” I asked, playing dumb.

Daddy was losing his patience. “Did you, or did you not, Rebecca Matilda, tell her to do things that she didn't want to, and tell her that if she refused you would report her for stealing your book?” he asked in a no nonsense tone.

But instead of answering his question, I shouted, “SHE STOLE MY BOOK, DADDY! And she told her daddy I gave it to her. I heard her!”

“Young lady, don't you dare shout at me! This is about what you did, not about what Samantha did. Her daddy is taking care of her. Now, one last time, did you threaten her and get her to do things for you, or not? Yes or no? No nonsense.”

I thought about lying, but knew better. My dad was really strict about lying. Slowly I nodded my head. I didn’t want to see his face so I looked down at the carpet.

“I am very upset with you, Rebecca Matilda. That was very naughty of you. That was blackmail, and it was even worse than the stealing that Samantha did -- besides you are older and are supposed to know better. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I have no excuse. I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Well, then, into the corner, skirt up.”

I mentioned before that my dad was strict with me. He also made me wear a skirt every day. My school didn’t even require it. The kids used to tease me but then I kinda got a reputation for being the toughest fifth grader, so they don’t bug me about it anymore. I told you I’m frequently in trouble.

Dad said, “Scoot,” so I ran to the corner. He watched me go and said, “I'll be along in a while. And I want you thinking about what you did and why it was naughty.”

“Yes, sir,” I answered. I did as he said, held my skirt up and waited.

After about fifteen minutes, I heard my dad come back into the room. “You were really very naughty this time, Rebecca Matilda, and you knew better, or you should have. You have a good spanking coming, and then it’s bed without supper for you, young lady. Now turn around and come with me.”

Okay, I knew I was definitely getting a spanking, but no dinner? That wasn’t fair and I intended to let him know how I felt. I looked at my dad and said, “But why, Daddy? That’s not fair!” I tried not to whine...that wouldn’t have gone over too well.

Daddy turned and stared at me, eyebrows raised. “Was it fair for you to make Samantha fetch and carry for you, and make her say and do mean things to her friends? Did you really think that that was okay?”

“N-no, sir, I guess not. But she took my book. That wasn’t nice of her AND she lied to her daddy.”

“Yes, she was wrong to do that, but you should have told me or her daddy, not held it over her and made her do other things that weren't nice either. That’s called blackmail. If you were a grown-up, you’d go to jail.”

My lower lip trembled as I looked at my dad. Jail? Did he say jail?

Daddy must have realized he scared me cuz he said, “Don’t worry, Rebecca, you’re not going to jail. You’re only ten. You’re just going to get a good old- fashioned spanking!”

“I'm sorrrrrry, please don't spank me!” I cried.

Daddy clicked his tongue. “Now that you're caught, you’re 'sorry’. Well you are going to be very sorry indeed. I gave you several chances to tell me about this, and you just tried to lie. Into the study: March!” he said and smacked my rear once. He marched me by the shoulders into his study. He pointed at his desk. “Now you know that you are supposed to bend over it.”

I hated spankings. And I especially hated the ones where I had to bend over the desk. When I was a bit younger, Daddy made me bend over his lap and he used his hand or my wooden hairbrush. But now since I was in trouble much more often, he did it this way, and I didn’t like it one bit.

“Noooo, pleeease, I'll apologize!” I cried.

“Indeed you will, after your spanking. Now bend over before you get in worse trouble, young lady.”

“Yessir,” I said, bending over the desk. I cringed for what was to come.

Daddy pinned my skirt up to my shoulders, and lowered my panties. He picked up the ping-pong paddle he had waiting. If you’ve ever been spanked with a ping-pong paddle, then you know how much it hurts.

{Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!} {Whack!}

I yelled, “Owwww!” but it didn’t do much good. Daddy did not stop.

{Whack!} {Whack!} “You do not {Whack!} blackmail {Whack!} other people {Whack!} {Whack!} by threatening to tell {Whack!} something that they did wrong {Whack!} or want kept private. {Whack!} {Whack!} That is very, {Whack!} very, {Whack!} very {Whack!} naughty. {Whack!} Do you understand me, {Whack!} Rebecca Matilda?” {Whack!}

“Owwwwww, yesss, Daddddddy, stoooopppp!” I yelled. Not that that would do any good either. When Daddy was determined to hit a point home, he “hit” a point home.

{Whack!} {Whack!} “I'll stop {Whack!} when I think {Whack!} you've learned your lesson {Whack!} and been punished enough. {Whack!} {Whack!} Also you *lied* {Whack!} to me. {Whack!} {Whack!} You know how I feel {Whack!} about lies, young lady.” {Whack!} {Whack!}

“I didn't lie to you, Daddy, you never asked,” I spit out. “Owwww, stopppp!” I was crying real hard and wanted the spanking to be over with. I would take lots and lots of scolding, but not this. It just hurt too much.

{Whack!} {Whack!} “I asked you if there was anything going on and you said {Whack!} ‘no’. {Whack!} I asked about Samantha {Whack!} and you pretended to remember {Whack!} that she ‘might’ {Whack!} have taken your book. {Whack!} And when I asked about what you did directly, you said ‘what do you mean?’ and tried to deny it. {Whack!} Didn't you, {Whack!} young lady?” {Whack!} {Whack!}

I nodded and said, “Yes, Dadddddy, I'm sorrrrrry! I won't do it againnnnnnnn!” I mean, what else could I do? Every last thing he said was true. It was really hard to focus in on Daddy’s words when he was paddling me, but if I didn’t respond appropriately, then bigger trouble lay ahead. So I always managed to say the right things. Waaaahhhhh! He was really laying into me. I was a very sorry little girl.

{Whack!} {Whack!} “I should hope not. {Whack!} {Whack!} All right, your spanking is over,” Daddy finally said, laying down the paddle.

I stood up and jumped around, rubbing my bottom. It felt like it was on fire. “That hurrrrrt, Daddy, I’m sorrrry!” I cried.

“You should be. I want a nice note to Samantha, apologizing for what you did, then back in the corner for a while. Then you can tell me what you have learned. I love you, Becky, but I will not tolerate this kind of behavior.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. I wiped at my eyes and then sat down at Daddy’s desk, still bare-bottomed. Oh, how that hurt! But Daddy expected me to write the note sitting down on my recently spanked bottom. I told you he was strict!

I wrote the note. I wasn’t happy about it. I wanted to write that I hoped Sammie got a big spanking too, but since I knew Daddy would be reading the note, and Mr. Leonard, too, I kept it nice. Even though it killed me. I would have to think of a way to get Sammie back without it getting me into trouble.

Daddy came back into the room about a half hour later. The note had long been written and I was in the corner where I was supposed to wait. Daddy looked over the note. He approved it and sent me upstairs to get ready for bed.

Once my teeth were brushed, my face was washed, and my pajamas were put on, Daddy came into my room. He sat down next to me on my bed. “Did you think about what you learned tonight, young lady?” he asked.

I nodded. “I learned that if one person does something wrong, it's not okay for another person to do it. Right, Daddy?”

“That's right, and it’s not okay to force people into doing things they don't want by taking advantage of their mistakes. I hope you will remember that,” Daddy said, as he reached out to me.

“Yes, sir,” I said, smiling. I embraced Daddy. All in all, he was very strict, but he was very loving, too.

I wasn’t sure I was that sorry for what I had done to Sammie. I mean, it had been fun having a slave for a while. I would have to think of a way to do it again. And I was going to have to get back at her for snitching on me!

The end. (for now!)