Accepting the Unfair

I hope you enjoy the story. If you do, please let me know. If you don't, please let me know. If you are under age, go find something better to do with your time. This will wait until you are older. I do not hassle with copyrights because it just doesn't matter that much to me; however, if you would like to copy this and use it for something else, please send me an email just to tell me where it is going. It feels kind of weird to go to a new web site and find your own words unexpectedly staring back at you...
 
 
"Daddy, there's something I need to tell you."

"I know. I already spoke with your victim. Have a seat."

Elizabeth timidly perched in a chair, her father already sitting across the wide desk from her. She could almost hear her own heart hammering against the walls of her chest. He didn't look angry, and he didn't sound angry, but you could never tell for sure. The only thing beyond doubt was that she was in hot water.

Henry wasn't really sure what he felt himself. He was still torn between tears, rage, or a good, long belly laugh, and there was no sense inflicting all of that confusion on her, so he decided to play this one by the rotes.

She waited for several eternal seconds before speaking, "Daddy, I can explain everything."

Henry shook his head slowly and smiled, "You and four accomplices spray painted Swastikas on the hood and doors of your principal's Cadillac. The school janitor saw you doing it, and amongst the five of you, you were the one he recognized."

"There were special circumstances..."

"Well I would certainly hope so. You took the time to get the proper sized stencils, red, white, and black paint, and although I'm not a Nazi expert, it looked to me like you did some pretty authentic work. I would imagine that took some time, planning, research, effort, not a spur of the moment thing at all. Premeditated...you were thinking when you did it."

"You saw it?"

"Your principal invited me to the school to see the handiwork for myself. I don't believe she appreciated the artistry as I did."

"She was probably pretty mad."

"Livid, but, like most card carrying members of the Gestapo, she kept it carefully controlled. Very professional demeanor."

"It was about these new school policies..."

"I know. They are callous. They restrict your freedom and creativity for no reason at all. They treat you like you are in grade school rather than a vastly more mature teenager of seventeen years, and they are inherently unfair. All school policy changes are mailed to the parents. I've read them."

"And you agree with her?"

"No, I don't. I think they are callous, restrict your freedom and creativity for no reason at all, treat you like babes and are inherently unfair."

He was impossible to read. He seemed to be agreeing with her, but he was hiding something, and it made her even more nervous than she was already. "But?"

"But. Yes. But... But, it doesn't matter. Do you think that you are the only teenager in history to have concluded that your school administrators are fascists?"

"Probably not."

"And you've met my boss, right? Do you think your principal holds a candle to him? My own personal abusive, sadistic, fascist?"

"No."

"But you haven't seen me or anyone else painting Swastika's on his BMW, have you?"

"No."

"Is it a Cadillac thing? The German BMW is already inherently Nazi, but the Cadillac needed a little identifying?"

Grinning a little, in spite of her predicament, "No. Maybe if it were a Volvo, but Cadillacs are ok."

"So why don't I? The bastard deserves it far more than your principal."

"Because you would get fired."

"and/or fined or arrested and humiliated and made to look like the juvenile delinquent that I would be. School is no different. You think you are there to learn reading and arithmetic, but there is much more. You are in school to learn to be a productive member of society. You are there to become not only literate but capable of self control and discipline. You are there to learn that life is very rarely fair or reasonable, that there will always be someone you have to answer to who you find to be distasteful. You are there to learn to accept the unfair and choose your battles carefully. You did not choose this battle wisely at all."

"But you have to admit, it was pretty funny," trying to recover the mood.

"I wrote your principal a check today for $1300 dollars to cover the entire amount of the damages. I feel that stole some of the humor."

Elizabeth winced at the figure.

"Shoe polish or toilet paper might have been a little more funny, but spray paint is a bit too expensive to tickle me overmuch. I also understand that you refused to identify your co-conspirators. Is that correct?"

"I can't rat out my friends."

"I do understand loyalty. It's a trait that I went to great lengths to instill in you. However, I haven't seen any of them come forward to share the blame with you. Do they not owe you the same bond of loyalty that you give them?"

Pausing, "I don't know."

"Do not lie to me," threatening.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they will, and I don't think I should compromise on my principles just because someone else does."

"I agree completely. Do we also agree that spray painting your principal's car was a bad idea?"

"Yes. I know I messed up."

"You are fortunate that she is not prosecuting you for vandalism. She was very benevolent. I paid for the damages and assured her that I would correct your behavior with a belt, and that seemed to satisfy her."

Blood drained out of her face, "Daddy, I'm seventeen years old."

Henry held his hand in front of him, turning the palm toward her, rejecting her plea with a gesture. "It's non-negotiable. There is not only the matter of today. There are other reasons. You have chosen your friends poorly and have fallen into a bad crowd. Your grades are slipping. Your attitude and demeanor are becoming less like a lady and more like a delinquent or a vagabond. Previously, I haven't said anything about any of this. Your mother left us both, and both of us went through some changes. I had hoped that you would pull yourself out of it, and I wasn't sure that I should interfere even if you didn't. You are, as you mentioned, seventeen years old. However, today's event has taken it one step too far, and now we will begin some broad changes."

Elizabeth looked like she might pass out. Her skin had turned pale in stark contrast to the long, dark brown hair. He could see her trembling slightly, trying to think of a way out of it. He gave that a moment to sink in and see if she would argue with him, but she didn't, at least not yet.

"Until you manage to earn my trust again, you are going to find your life very unpleasantly micromanaged. I will want to know where you are all the time. I will want to know what your assignments are, and I'll make sure they get done. I will want to know who you spend your time with, and if I tell you to stay away from four particular stinkers that I have in mind, whose names I am already very well aware of, I will expect you to comply. For a while, you are going to find my nose in all of your personal business. If I find you uncooperative, disobedient, disrespectful, or belligerent, you will find that I very quickly return to the belt. Before you manage to live this down, it will be *my* car that you feel inclined to spray paint. Do you understand all of that?"

"There is no need to treat me like a child."

"I won't. I would be far more lenient with a child. You are an adolescent who should be far closer to becoming an adult than you have demonstrated today, so I will make this proportionally unpleasant."

When no reply was forthcoming, Henry went on, "Today is Friday, and in a few minutes I'm going to spank you. I also paid out $1300 dollars today which should rightfully be paid by you and your cohorts. As far as I am concerned, that is money that you owe to me. You will need to find yourself a part-time job: baby sit, mow lawns, or whatever, but I will expect the debt to be cleared. I'm going to spank you again every Friday afternoon until I have that money, so I would suggest that you be quick about it. I have already spoken with your grandparents and my brother, and they wholeheartedly support this plan, so don't bother going to them for fund raising."

Looking like she was about to panic and flee, "Daddy, please, it will take me forever to get that much money no matter how hard I try."

"I considered that. $1300 is a big chunk of change for someone your age, so I decided to use it as an object lesson in choosing your friends wisely. I'd like to see a demonstration of their true character. Perhaps I am wrong, and if so, I will be the first to apologize, but I am of the opinion that they are a pack of low lives, and I'm willing to put a large portion of that $1300 on the line to prove it to you. You find out who your friends really are when you need them the most, not when they are smiling and joking.

"Leaning forward, Henry propped his elbows on his desk, "I'll take $200 dollars off of that $1300 for each of your four cohorts who comes forward of their own accord and accepts responsibility for their actions. They can turn themselves in to your principal. I know perfectly well who they are, but I'm going to keep that information to myself and let you rely on their character. Alternately, they could simply give you some money to reduce your sentence. If they have some money and also turn themselves in, you could find yourself off the hook as early as next week. That, however, would require good friends with good character who feel it is unworthy to allow a friend to take a fall for their actions, and frankly, I don't think these people you are associating with are up to that standard."

"In other words, I'm completely screwed," voice shaking, she looked as if she might cry at a moment's notice.

"In other words, you are going to feel the weight of your own decisions, and you are going to be leaning on the support provided by your friends. That, Elizabeth, fair or not, is how life really works. If you think having your bottom blistered is unpleasant, you're going to be completely floored by the magnitude of the challenges you will face in your adult life. You are going to need your friends, good friends, real friends, to help you through it. Choose them wisely. Choose them for character, compassion, nobility, and strength."

Henry sat there and allowed the awkward moment of silence linger for a short while before sitting back in his chair and speaking again. "It's time to get this over with. Now stand up." After watching her push her chair back and wobble to her feet, "Take off your skirt and underwear."

She just stood there for a moment, "You can't do this to me. I'm not a little girl."

Looking her squarely in the eye, he allowed his pleasant demeanor to slip just a touch, "I believe I explained the consequences for being uncooperative. Today would not be a good day to test my patience any further."

Staring at her shoes, Elizabeth unzipped the side of her skirt and slid it down and off. Leaning over, she reached back up and took her panties down with it before stepping out of the garments. She picked both of them up and used them to cover herself when she stood up straight again.

"Leave them on the chair."

Trying not to look directly at him, her pale skin blushed red, but she set her clothes down on the chair and used her hands to conceal her modesty instead.

"Go to the closet in my bedroom. Fetch the belt. It's been several years, but I'm sure you'll remember which one."

With the first tears running down her cheek, she turned and all but fled the room, slender legs and round bottom trailing out of his study. Her fear was a hard knot in her belly. The cool draft from the air conditioning constantly reminded her of her nudity. She tried to keep her shirt pulled down over her hips, fearing that someone might see her through one of the windows.

She did in fact remember which belt once she got to his closet, an old brown belt with a tarnished brass buckle. It wasn't very heavy, but the leather was smooth and supple, very flexible. She wondered if it would hurt as much as she remembered or if she was rugged enough to deal with it now. Her hand shook taking it down off of the peg.

The last thing her feet wanted to do was carry her up those stairs. The last thing her hand wanted to do was open the door to his office and go back inside, but she did. Once inside, she saw that her father had pulled one of the plush chairs into the middle of the room and turned it so the back of it was facing his desk. Hearing nothing but her own pulse in her ears, she ventured closer and set the belt down on his desk.

"Good. Now bend over the back of the chair." As much as she wanted to, she refrained from arguing or pleading with him. Instead, she turned her back to him and leaned her body over the back of the chair. The back of the chair was just tall enough that her feet could only barely touch the floor and her bottom tilted up to the ceiling.

"Stay put. I'm going to give you a few minutes to think about this." Then she did start to cry. She tried to keep it quiet, but he could hear her from a few feet away. Despite his hard won callousness to the pitiful pleas of his daughter, it still almost broke his heart... almost.

Elizabeth was in hell. She was terrified of a whipping and embarrassed to have her bare ass bent over the back of a chair in plain view. She hadn't been forced to endure this in years, but she was quickly remembering why she hated it so much. So she tried to distract herself by staring at a digital clock sitting on a shelf across the room. Bad plan. It was the longest fifteen minutes she could ever recall counted off one miserable digit at a time.

Henry picked the belt up and walked around his desk to stand beside her. She looked backward to watch his approach, her fears growing. "Keep your eyes forward." At that, she couldn't even look anymore, now seeing nothing but the dark red fabric covering the chair and the carpet.

Elizabeth was not a little girl anymore. She was almost all grown up, a lovely physical reminder of how close at hand adulthood was. Her hips and bottom had rounded out a little. Legs had acquired a little shape to them. Henry took the belt in his off hand and then used that arm to hold her down over the back of the chair. Deciding to begin with his hand, he rested his palm on one cheek finding it to be a very pleasant blend of soft flesh and the more firm musculature underneath. Elizabeth had clenched her entire body at his touch, so he waited for a short while until the stress forced her to relax. Then he raised his hand high and started spanking her.

Feeling no cause to be easy with her, his palm struck each cheek solidly with a loud smack. Elizabeth sucked in a breath of air and tried to adjust her bottom to a less vulnerable angle, but he kept spanking her, alternating between cheeks, and with her limited range of motion there was simply no escape.

It only stung a little at first, but it got worse every time his palm found her bottom. She soon found herself wriggling and making small noises, now very eager for him to stop before she started crying. With her butt on fire, she found herself only barely able to control her voice, "Please, Daddy, I promise I'll be a good girl."

"Yes, I feel confident that you will," and spanked her even harder and faster, rapidly driving her to tears. Once he could hear her crying, he stopped his hand and took up the belt instead. Her bottom had turned a very cheerful shade of pink, almost the same hue as the moist, feminine flower which opened up it's petals as her legs slid farther apart.

Being more gentle now, Henry licked her with the belt. There was no need to go overboard. The leather made a sharp crack against her flesh which was promptly drowned out by Elizabeth's squeal. If he kept whipping her long enough, the belt was going to deliver its message very nicely, so he slapped it up and down the surface of her bottom across both sides, and then worked down to the tops of her thighs. Elizabeth writhed on the chair, making it a little difficult to hold her in place, and squeaked out a high pitched protest on every lick. Her cries turned to choking sobs long before he was through with her. Henry simply kept punishing her bottom in steady licks, eventually turning the skin a deep red crisscrossed by thin lines of an even darker hue. It not only hurt as much as she remembered, it was far, far worse.

Elizabeth tried to stand up, but Henry kept her neatly bent over, and her whipping, which absolutely must stop, didn't. She tried to protect her burning skin with her hands, but she only found one blocked and the other twisted behind her back, and the belt popped her again, harder now. She kicked her legs only to find Henry scorching the back of her legs with the worst licks yet. When she finally surrendered to the inevitable, Henry eased on the belt a little and returned to the moderate, but horribly painful licks. An eternity later, after she had run herself out of stamina and forgotten everything but the merciless burning, Henry stopped and laid the belt down on his desk.

He allowed her a few minutes to finish crying before standing her up again. Her eyes were puffy and red, lips trembled, cheeks rosy and stained with tears, but it looked like she was going to live. "You know, you made that much harder on yourself than it had to be. In the future, I will expect you to hold yourself still over the chair until I am finished or it will go far worse than today. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Alright then. Go stand in that corner. Put your nose in it and keep your hands off of your behind."

Elizabeth looked as if this final indignity would be her undoing, and she certainly returned to tears, but she said nothing as she made her way to the corner as she was told. "Keep your shirt lifted up. I'll let you know when you can come out."

Henry did have to admit to himself that Elizabeth, standing in the corner with her pert little bottom blistered red, was almost too precious. It made her look like a punished little girl, and the soft sound of her crying only reinforced the image. He even allowed himself to keep her in that corner several minutes longer than he had intended so he could keep watching her.

She did finally calm down, and her breathing returned to normal. Her tail was still miserably red and looked like it had every intention of staying that way. "Alright, young lady, you may come out of the corner now." Henry stood up from his desk and came over to her to collect a hug while she tenderly rubbed her back side.

Very happily returning his embrace, "Daddy, are you really going to whip me again next week? Please tell me you won't. I swear to God I've learned my lesson."

"Unless you or your friends can come by $1300 and I find all other aspects of your behavior falling properly in line, I will in fact be scorching your bottom again one week from today or perhaps sooner if you fall out of step. Like I said, you are not a small child. There will be no leniency."

"I don't even have a job yet."

"I have taken the liberty of making a few phone calls on your behalf. You should be able to find gainful employment in just a day or two. I know some people." Henry reached behind her and slapped her gently on the bottom eliciting a short, frightened shriek. "Now pull your clothes back on, so we can go downstairs and get dinner started. We have an awful lot of things to talk about."