Monthly Maintenance: Selected Stories from Blushing Books Authors

by Blushing Books

  Removing her shoes and coat, and putting her handbag with them, she padded in bare feet to stand next to where her father had seated himself, and after saying something to him which Rick couldn't hear but which elicited only a shaking head, she slowly reached under her skirt and pulled her panties to her knees. Rick gasped in shock, wondering what kind of perverted acts her father was expecting her to perform, and was about to leap to the window through which he was spying, when he saw Briony hitch up her skirt and lay across her father's lap. At the same time, her father picked up the sturdy wooden ruler he'd placed on the couch beside him and the truth of what was taking place was suddenly, blindingly clear. The young woman Rick had so recently been wanting to make love to was now no more than a naughty girl over her Daddy's knee waiting to have her bottom spanked for disobedience.

  Rick was unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle being played out before him. Part of him felt guilty, wondering how Briony would feel if she knew he was spying on her while she was being punished, but he could no more look away than can the prey of a cobra once its gaze is trapped by the hypnotic swaying. In Rick's case, once Briony's father had pushed her shirt up and out of the way and then shifted her into a position with which he seemed satisfied, it was the hypnotic rise and fall of his arm as it brought the ruler cracking down onto the proffered roundness of his daughter's bottom which trapped his gaze and held it fast.

  A newcomer himself to corporal punishment, it was still obvious to Rick that the scene taking place in front of him had been acted out in this fashion many times before. Briony's compliance in preparing for the spanking by baring her own bottom and placing herself submissively across her father's knee suggested she'd been well trained, as did the fact that her hands were still firmly clasped in front of her and she was making no move to interfere with her punishment despite the spanking clearly becoming uncomfortable judging by the way she'd started kicking her legs each time the ruler fell. And her father's business-like attitude, his relaxed but stern demeanor, and unhurried, carefully placed swats with the ruler were equal evidence that this had been a routine occurrence between the two of them for a long time.

  The vantage point Rick had unwittingly secured for himself was perfect to view the whole proceedings, and although he felt sorry for Briony and longed to be able to put an end to her suffering and kiss her better, he was unable to prevent himself being almost overwhelmed by a feeling of excitement as he saw the round feminine bottom over the older man's knee turning a dark shade of pink as the spanking progressed. And he felt himself harden uncomfortably in his jeans as the disciplinarian tipped his daughter slightly further forward and trapped her legs between his, straightening the crease where her bottom met her thighs.

  As the ruler began spanking the softer, tender area, Briony became clearly more distressed and for the first time, Rick was able to hear her voice as she began pleading for the punishment to end. Her head was tossing feverishly from side to side as the ruler stung her tender flesh over and over again, but even so she kept her bottom still and unprotected, allowing the spanking to proceed until her father decreed she had been sufficiently punished. And after what seemed an interminable amount of time, and was in reality a good 10 minutes, the spanking was finally over.

  If Rick expected Briony to be angry with her father for giving her such a long spanking, he was in for yet another surprise that evening. After pulling up her panties and helping her to her feet, her father opened his arms and she went willingly into them for a reassuring hug while she calmed down. Anyone seeing them now would never imagine what had just taken place and, as Rick watched, her father spoke gently to her and she nodded her head, clearly admitting that she understood why she'd been spanked and that she had indeed deserved it and would aim to be more obedient in future so as to avoid it happening again. Then, reaching up on tip-toes, she kissed his cheek before collecting her things and leaving the room. Her father, after replacing the ruler in its safe-keeping place, followed after, turning out the light and plunging the room into blackness as he went.

  "So, did you get into trouble?" Rick asked Briony the next day, desperately wanting to talk about the strange phenomenon he'd witnessed but unable to confess he'd spied on her.

  They'd met at the university cafeteria for lunch and he'd surreptitiously watched as she sat down, feeling a stirring once again as a tiny tell-tale wince brought the image of her lying bare-bottomed across her father's knee flooding back into his mind.

  "Yeah, Dad was pretty mad, but he's okay now," she answered, keeping her eyes averted.

  "Oh?" Rick had a feeling he was on dangerous ground, but he couldn't let it go. "He didn't punish you, did he?"

  "Well, he didn't ground me if that's what you're worried about," she smiled at him.

  "I'm glad of that," he smiled back. "I don't understand why he'd be angry, though. You are 18." The image of her meek compliance during her punishment intrigued him. Why hadn't she refused to co-operate?

  "It's just the deal we have," she said with a shrug. "If I live with him and he pays the bills, I abide by his rules. If I don't want to, I'm free to move out. But I can't afford to live away from home while I'm at uni - well, I probably could, but I'd have to work more hours, so I quite like this arrangement. I know the rules. If I stick to them, I'm okay."

  He couldn't push any further without risking her finding out he'd seen her being spanked, but over the coming weeks, try as he might, he couldn't rid the image from his mind. Each time he saw her, he wondered if she'd been spanked again, but not being able to ask, he'd rub her bottom watching carefully to see if she reacted. If she had been over her father's knees again and there was any tenderness, though, she never gave anything away.

  Then it happened again. She'd told him she definitely had to be in by 11pm that night; her Dad had been very emphatic about that as she had exams coming up, but the movie had gone on longer than they'd realized and when Rick warned her they were going to be late if they stayed until the end, she'd fidgeted nervously for a moment, then shrugged and said it was "too bad".

  As soon as he'd dropped her off outside her gate, Rick had driven forward far enough so his car was out of sight and then, once again, crept into the garden in which he now stood five years later, and hid behind the tree. Her father had been waiting for her in the loungeroom this time, and she'd gone straight in to him after letting herself in through the front door. Rick arrived at his vantage point, just in time to see her unbuckling her jeans and pushing them down to her knees and then once again taking her position across her father's knee, her hands demurely clasped in front of her.

  Taking only a moment to adjust her position to his satisfaction, her father quickly began the spanking. Over and over the ruler came cracking down on her plump flesh and it took no time before her growing discomfort again became evident by the way she was kicking her feet and tossing her head each time the ruler fell. After one particularly painful stroke to her tender upper thigh, she jerked so hard she got out of position. Her father stopped spanking and readjusted her, apparently scolding her as he did so. Again Rick wondered at her submission; as soon as the ruler had momentarily stopped its onslaught, she had become still and compliant as her father pushed her forward again so her bottom was presented more accessibly.

  Why didn't she fight against the punishment? It was clearly painful enough to distress her. And how could she accept her father treating her thus without it raising some feelings of resentment within her? In a moment his question was answered in a way he could never have imagined. Having positioned his daughter once more so that the spanking could be carried out with maximum effect, the older man slid his hand up her back and gently rubbed it. Inexperienced as he was, the significance of this gesture exploded through Rick with such force that he had to lean against the tree for support.

  There was no doubt that that hand on Briony's back was there to sternly remind her, and to help her, keep still until the spanking was over, but it was also, at precisely th
e same time, imparting a gentle message of reassurance and love. It was telling the prostrate and increasingly distraught young woman that it was only her bottom that was being punished, the rest of her was as loved and safe as ever. And he also realized that that deep love, freely given and received both ways, explained Briony's submission to the punishment.

  In the second that Rick clearly understood the loving relationship between the father and the daughter he was once again soundly spanking, he just as clearly realized something about himself: that that was how he wanted to love and care for his woman; not just any woman, though - the adorable girl he was now watching having her plump, feminine bottom spanked. From that point on, Rick told himself, he would be the one, and the only one, to spank Briony, and the one to comfort her afterwards.

  As he approached the front door now, that moment was a distant memory and he found himself suddenly wondering if he was making a terrible mistake in coming back after all this time. He didn't even know if she was back in Western Australia; he'd heard once, more than a year ago that she'd gone overseas and was living in London. Maybe she was still there.

  With a resolute sigh, he pulled open the fly screen and pushed the buzzer. He'd come this far, he might as well go through with it now, and if all his dreams and memories turned to ashes, perhaps he would finally be able to let her go and move on with his own life. Maybe she'll be here, he thought, and she won't recognize me. Maybe I won't recognize her! But then the door opened and there she was, standing before him, and he did recognize her even though she was more enchantingly lovely than even he'd remembered.

  "My God, Briony!" he gasped, barely noticing her look of confusion. "You look like a princess!"

  "Rick? Is that you?!" Briony sounded amazed. "I nearly didn't recognize you. Can you believe that? I just wasn't expecting you at all. I didn't even know you were in town. . . "

  The words were tumbling out on top of each other, but Rick had stopped hearing anything but the awful whooshing of the blood rushing through his ears the minute his heart stopped as his brain registered what he was seeing. The reason Briony looked like a princess was because she was wearing a long, white lacy gown, unmistakably a wedding gown.

  "Is the wedding today?" he blurted out.

  It seemed Briony had also forgotten she was dressed as a bride. For a moment the tiny furrow which Rick had loved to kiss appeared between her eyebrows, then she remembered, looking down at herself with an embarrassed gasp.

  "No, Saturday," she stammered. "Mum was just finishing the alterations. Come in." Taking his arm, she pulled him into the house and headed him towards the sitting room in which her father had spanked her. "I'll change. Mum, look who's here."

  As Rick made his way through the glass sliding doors, Mrs. Andrews looked up from the table strewn with needles and threads and pins and scissors and all manner of other sewing paraphernalia, and there was no doubting that after a momentary look of surprise, followed by the shock of recognition, it was with pure delight that she greeted him.

  "Rick!" she exclaimed, kissing him warmly on the cheek. "What a lovely surprise. It's so nice to see you, and looking so well. Where'd Briony go?"

  "She said she was going to change," Rick answered, quickly adding "I hope I haven't interrupted."

  "No, not at all," Mrs. Andrews assured him. "We'd finished anyway. Well, all the pins are in at least. I can finish stitching it up later. Come and sit down and tell me about yourself. It's been such a long time, and . . well, you left so unexpectedly . . ."

  "Yes," Rick mumbled, wishing desperately he hadn't come. It had been a terrible mistake, but he hadn't even admitted to himself how much he'd been secretly hoping and dreaming of a quite different outcome. Now, he just wanted to get away again with as much dignity as he could salvage without either Briony or her mother realizing how much the news of the forthcoming wedding had destroyed him.

  As he thought of Briony, she reappeared, casually dressed in jeans and T-shirt. Her straight blonde hair was shorter now than it had been, accentuating her elfin features. Rick could see she was feeling as uncomfortable as he and his misery deepened further.

  "So, stranger," she was saying "where've you been hiding all this time?"

  "I've been up north on the gas project." He was answering mechanically, his mind obsessed with only one thought: Was it David she was marrying?

  "Sit down, love," Mrs. Andrews was urging him as she headed for the kitchen. "I'll make a pot of tea."

  "You in town long, then?" Briony asked.

  "No. Mary and I are heading back up to the Burrup on Saturday."

  "Mary?" The question, though lightly asked, was heavy with meaning. Too late, Rick realized the mistaken inference, but before he could correct it, the phone rang in the hall and, with a quick "excuse me", Briony had left to answer it.

  "Hello?" he heard her say and then in a much warmer voice "Oh, hi, David."

  Well, Rick thought wretchedly, I guess that answers my question.

  "Kettle's on," announced Mrs. Andrews as she reappeared from the kitchen. "You'll stay for a cuppa, won't you?"

  "I'm not sure," Rick began, but he was sure, sure he couldn't stay here a moment longer than it was going to take him to extricate himself without making a greater fool of himself than he'd already done by coming back. "Thanks, but I think I'd better be heading off actually. I was just passing and stopped in on the spur of the moment."

  "I know!" Mrs. Andrews exclaimed suddenly. "Will you still be here on Saturday? Why don't you come to the wedding. I'm sure Briony would love you to be there; you were such good friends once."

  Overcome with horror at the thought of having to watch the woman he loved marry another man, Rick was speechless.

  "Do say you'll come," Mrs. Andrews pressed him, taking his silence for possible acceptance. "It's at that lovely little church on Walcott Street, just down from Beaufort Street. You know the one? Say you'll come. 11.00am."

  Rick was saved from having to answer by Briony's return. As she came close, her soft sweet smell washed over him, and he could see the heightened color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her blue eyes like afternoon sunshine on a lake. The effect was dazzling, but the knowledge that it was the call from David which had created the soft glow of love which now enveloped her cut through him like a blade of steel.

  He lurched to his feet, desperately fighting back the urge to take hold of her, to bury his face in her hair, to kiss the sweetness of her neck and to feel the softness of her against him. It was too much; he had to get out.

  "You sure you won't stay for a cuppa, then" Mrs. Andrews was saying with surprise.

  "No, thanks," he stammered. "I've got to get back. Mary's waiting for me."

  As he made for the front door, he was aware that Briony was regarding him with a strange expression. His brain was valiantly trying to understand what that look was, but there was such a pounding from his heart, echoed by a throbbing in his head, he could no longer think straight.

  "Well, dear," Mrs. Andrews was warmly shaking his hand. "It was lovely to see you. Don't let it be so long before you come and see us again."

  "No, I won't," he answered, scarcely aware of what he was saying. "Goodbye, Mrs. Andrews."

  He looked past her into the bottomless pit of Briony's eyes. For a second, they locked together and then the moment was gone forever.

  He'd lied about having to get back to the hotel, but he couldn't stay in the house with Briony another second; it was just too painful. With nowhere special to be, he found himself unconsciously driving back to the house in Nedlands where he'd been living when he met Briony, and it was in that house, in the sleep-out on the back verandah, that he'd first put her over his knee and spanked her as he'd watched her father do.

  The two of them had been out celebrating the end of mid-year exams with Rick's housemates and their girlfriends. After a few drinks, the others had decided to go on to another pub, giving Rick the chance he'd been waiting for. The house would be empty for a few hours
, and Briony didn't seem particularly keen to go with the others, and was happy to accept Rick's suggestion of going to his place for coffee before he took her home. At least with exams having just finished, her father had relaxed her curfew, so they had plenty of time to spend together.

  Rick had no idea of how he was actually going to get her across his knee, or how she would react to such a suggestion, or whether he would be able to spank her properly and efficiently as he'd seen her father do, but in the end it had all just fallen into place as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  The couple of glasses of wine Briony had had while they were out had made her a little belligerent, and she'd started squabbling with him over who would make the coffee. It was a trivial incident, but when she called him a "stupid prick", it provided all the excuse he needed. Taking her hand he led her into his room, ignoring her struggling and protests.

  "What are you doing?" she demanded. "I want coffee."

  "You want your bottom smacked!" The words were out before he knew they were coming. He'd planned to go more slowly, to ease her into the idea for fear of frightening her away, but intuitively he read in her look of surprise at his words that they might be unexpected but they had not horrified her.

  "No I don't," she argued, trying to release her hand from his.

  "What would your father say if you behaved like this at home. Or called him a 'stupid prick'." It was a gamble, but he was in too deep to back out now.

  "I wouldn't!" She'd blanched at even just the thought.

  "So, why should I put up with you calling me one?" he felt stronger now, knew he was backing her into a corner. Inwardly he smiled at the image of her standing in the corner like the naughty girl she was, waiting for him to put her over his knee and spank her.

  "I'm sorry," she said, her demeanor instantly losing its aggressive edge. She smiled and snuggled up against him. "You're right, Rick, I won't ever call you a prick again, I promise."

  "Well, I'm still going to spank you to make sure." She was good, he thought to himself wryly. It would be so easy to take her in his arms and kiss her now instead of spanking her, but his mind was made up. He didn't know when he'd get another chance if he let this one go. "I tell you what," he pretended to reconsider as he disengaged himself from her arms. "I can't ground you, but I can stop us seeing each other for two weeks. I don't want that at all, but I feel like I should make a stand. So, baby, it's up to you. A spanking now and we forget about it, or I take you home and we don't see each other for a fortnight."