© 2000 by Sampast/D Landhill
I was sitting up in my bedroom when I heard Daddy
yell up the stairs, “Samantha, come down here, please.”
Hmmm, he usually called me “Little One” or even my
nickname, Sammie. Calling me by my full
name was probably a bad sign. But I
suppose it could have been worse…he could have called me by my first and middle
name.
“Just a minute, Daddy!” I called back.
“RIGHT NOW, young lady!” he shouted.
Uh oh, “young lady”…also a bad sign. Hmm, what did I do? Wait, scratch that. What did I do that he found out about? It seemed like I was always getting into
some kind of trouble. I didn’t mean to;
I just did. After all, I was only
seven.
I ran down the stairs and saw Daddy sitting on the
couch in the living room. I walked over
to him. “Yes, Daddy?” I asked,
innocently.
“Samantha, that was Mr. S from daycare on the
phone just now. Is there something you
forgot to tell me?” Daddy asked facetiously.
Okay, obviously, my daycare teacher had a big
mouth…but which thing was it? My god, I
got into so much trouble, it could have been anything. I thought fast.
“Well, young lady? Were you planning to tell me what happened today?” Daddy asked.
Maybe I could keep stalling him. Then eventually he would just say what it
was I was in trouble for. Then I
wouldn’t get myself in any deeper trouble.
I just looked at Daddy.
“Samantha, I expect an answer, right now! Tell me about the blender,” he said.
OH, the blender!
I figuratively smacked my head.
How could I forget?
“Well, um, I, uh,” I began, not sure what to tell
Daddy. I wasn’t sure how much Mr. S had
told him. Probably all of it.
“Yes?” Daddy inquired.
“But Daddy, I already got punished for that!” I
whined. That was probably not the best
way to go.
“Samantha Karen, I suggest you keep that whine out
of your voice. You are already in a lot
of trouble. And I don’t want to hear
that you were already punished. What is
the rule about getting in trouble at school or at daycare?”
My first and middle name. I sighed.
“That if I get punished somewhere else, you’ll spank me again at home?”
I cried.
“That’s right, young lady!” Daddy said firmly.
“But Daddy, it was an accident!” I cried.
“Samantha, sit down here and tell me the
story. And I suggest you stay calm.”
I did as Daddy said, and I sat down. I looked around for any spanking implements,
but did not see any. That didn’t mean
there weren’t any there, though.
“Well, Daddy, I was hungry, so I went to fix
myself a snack. And I saw all the
ingredients for a shake. I put
everything into the blender, and turned it on.
It would have been great, only I forgot to put the cover on. Chocolate stuff flew everywhere,” I
explained.
“I see,” Daddy said. This, as you might or might not know, is also a bad sign. “And did you have permission to use the
blender, young lady? Let alone, even have a snack in the first place?”
I had to shake my head. If I said yes, and Daddy called Mr. S. back, it would not be
good. “No, sir,” I said, sadly.
“I’m not happy that you didn’t tell me about this,
Samantha. You know that I would rather
find out from you rather than your daycare teacher, about any misbehavior.”
“I know, Daddy.
I guess I just forgot. But
Daddy, Mr. S. already punished me!” I tried again.
“I will take that into account. Now, come here!” Daddy pulled me by the arm, to lay me over his lap. But I did a stupid thing and I pulled back.
“No, Daddy, I don’t want a spanking! Pleeeease!”
“Samantha, get back over here this minute!” Daddy
shouted.
“NOOOO!” I
crossed my arms over my chest and pouted.
It wouldn’t be long before I threw a full blown temper tantrum.
Daddy must have seen that coming cuz he stood up
and grabbed me by the wrist and hauled me back to the sofa. “Very well, I warned you!” he said.
“OWWWW, Daddy, NO!” I shouted.
But Daddy didn’t like hearing “no” from me. He pulled down my pants and panties and
pulled me over his lap. From somewhere,
came a hairbrush. I looked around
wildly. Now where did that thing come
from?
Daddy started to smack me with the hairbrush. “This is what you get for not cooperating,
young lady!”
I yelled out, “No, DADDDY, I don't wanna spanking,
I don't want the hairbrush!” I started
to cry right away and tried to wriggle off his lap. Would I ever learn?
Daddy held me tightly and kept going with that
hairbrush.
{Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!}
{Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!}
I yelled, “OWWWWWW!!!”
Daddy continued spanking me and then the lecture
started. {Crack!} {Crack!} “You will
not {Crack!} tell me ‘no’, {Crack!} young lady. “ {Crack!}
“No, No, No!” I cried. Now it was just a matter of principle. “Dadddy, stop!”
But Daddy didn’t stop. {Crack!} {Crack!} “Not until
{Crack!} I think {Crack!} you've learned {Crack!} your lesson, {Crack!}
Samantha Karen!” {Crack!}
I think then I realized that I had gone a step too
far. I tried, “I have, stop, waaaah,
don't wanna spanking!” I was sobbing
now.
But I guess Daddy didn’t buy it, cuz he kept
going. {Crack!} {Crack!} “When I tell you to come here, {Crack!} what do you
do, {Crack!} Samantha Karen?” {Crack!}
“I come!” I wailed. I was hysterically crying at this point. I would have said anything to make him
stop. “I'm sorrrrrrrrry!”
{Crack!} {Crack!} “That's right. {Crack!} You come. You do not {Crack!} argue
with me. {Crack!} Do you, {Crack!}
young lady?” {Crack!}
Boy, Daddy was really mad. He kept wielding that hairbrush on my
backside, like a woodcutter wields an ax.
“Nooooooo! DADDDDY, OW, YOU ARE
HURTING ME, STOPPPPPP!” I cried out.
{Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} “Spankings are supposed
to hurt. {Crack!} You don't sound {Crack!} like you've learned this
lesson {Crack!} yet, young lady.” {Crack!}
“OWWWWWW!” I cried again, knowing I would have to
make this sound good to get him to stop.
I was feeling the pain in my backside, and realizing albeit too late,
that I might have overdone it on my tantrum.
“Pleeeeease, Daddy, I'm sorry!” I said, and I meant it, too.
{Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} “You should be,
{Crack!} young lady. {Crack!} {Crack!}
Very well, we will {Crack!} try it
again.” {Crack!}
Now I was confused. I lay there and wondered what he was talking about. Finally I asked, “Try what, Daddy?”
{Crack!} {Crack!} {Crack!} “Stand up and go to the
corner. {Crack!} Then when I call you, come to me for the rest of your
spanking. {Crack!} If you cooperate, it
will only be a hand-spanking.”
I stood up and stared at Daddy. I probably shouldn’t have said this out
loud, but I’m telling you, I never learn.
I said, “The rest?” Daddy just
glared at me, so I shuffled myself right into the corner.
“That’s better,” Daddy said.
I stood in the corner, crying, and trying to wipe
away some of my tears. I began to rub
my bottom. It was hot to the
touch. I must have stood there for at
least ten minutes, before I heard Daddy call to me.
"Samantha, come here."
I walked over to Daddy slowly: my panties and
pants at my ankles. I reached up for a
hug, hoping against hope that my spanking was over.
“Now we just have your original misbehavior to
deal with, Samantha.”
Oh, no; he couldn’t be serious. But he was.
Before I knew what was happening, Daddy had lifted me back onto his lap
and started hand-spanking me. {smack}
{smack} {smack} {smack} {smack}
OWWW, oh man, that hurt so much. I was about to scream out “No!” when I
thought better of it and just lay there and took what was coming to me. I cried.
{smack} “You will not {smack} use the blender {smack} or any other kitchen appliance
{smack} without permission.” {smack}
“Okay, okay, I won't, I promise!” I cried. “Owwwww!”
{smack} “And you will not {smack} make yourself
snacks {smack} without permission, {smack} either, young lady.” {smack}
“Yes, sir!”
{smack} {smack} {smack} {smack} {smack} {smack}
“There, little one, your spanking is over,” Daddy said. Music to my ears. And he called me “Little One” again. That always meant forgiveness.
Very carefully, I stood up and hugged Daddy
tight. “I’m sorry, Daddy!” I said. Daddy cuddled and hugged me.
“There, there, I forgive you, little one,” Daddy
said.
“That hurted a lot, Daddy,” I said.
“Yes, I'll bet it did. Wouldn't it have been better to have cooperated the first time,
even though you didn't want even a hand-spanking?” Daddy asked.
I knew this was one of his trick questions. So I just nodded. “Yes, Daddy, but I didn't want any spanking.”
“I know; you never do. But when you misbehave, you get spanked. And when you argue and don't cooperate, it
gets worse,” Daddy added.
I nodded again.
“I know, Daddy.”
“There, then, this is all over and you are my good
girl again, right?” Daddy asked, hugging and kissing away my tears.
“Yes, sir, I’m going to try to be good.”
“Good girl!
That’s what I like to hear,” Daddy said. “I love you, Little One, no matter what.”
“I love you, too, Daddy.”
I smiled.
I liked making my daddy happy. I
knew he loved me. I don’t know why I
couldn’t just learn to behave myself.
Maybe I would soon. Maybe I
would next year, when I was eight.
The end.