Her Hometown Daddy

by Rose St. Andrews

  “Well, we are now, so, consider it a retroactive punishment.”

  “Sheesh, what’s next, you going to dredge up everything I did when we were kids?”

  Drew grinned. “Hmmm…”

  Lisa gasped as sweat broke out across her body. “Oh, crap.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lisa easily led Drew back to the old clubhouse. He almost cried when he saw it, and then they became lost in tales of their childhood antics. Granted, there was no way they’d ever be able to really use it, Lisa barely fit inside, but just working on the old shack brought back wonderful memories. However, those memories did come back to bite her in the ass, almost literally. Drew decided that she would be punished for all of her antics: climbing through the pipe, building the dam, and so on. After a quick calculation, it was clear to her that, at one punishment a day, it would take most of the rest of the summer to get through all of them.

  It appeared sitting was going to be hard for the foreseeable future.

  There was also an agreement that they would fix the place up. They made a modest start right then and there: she cleaned out the trash and wiped down the furniture while he cleared the leaves and dirt away from the outside and fixed the door.

  After a hard day’s work, they were both quite ready for a hearty dinner, and then they relaxed and played a few silly board games from the playroom: Chutes and Ladders, Candyland, and then cards and dominos. Lisa couldn’t believe how much fun she had. After getting cleaned up, they went to his bedroom, and there made furious love for over an hour. Her poor bottom, still aching and hot, kept her ready to come again. One grab to her cheek, one pinch, or even just rolling over so she rubbed across the mattress was enough to bring her close to orgasm.

  * * *

  The next morning, she awoke naked and alone, and tiptoed around the upstairs. Drew was working in her room on… something. She wasn’t quite sure what, but it didn’t matter. He sat on the bed, put her across his lap (his jeans felt so very nice under her bare breasts and thighs), and spanked her. Only then was she allowed to dress and go down to breakfast.

  “Now, Lisa, I have a lot of work to do today. So, can you play on your own for a while, and then get ready to go to Uncle Ken’s?”

  “Yes, daddy. Is it okay if I go to the clubhouse? I’d like to dress it up some more.”

  He nodded. “Sure, just be sure to be home by noon for lunch.”

  She clapped her hands with glee and set off for the site, skipping on down the road. The lingering sting in her cheeks didn’t bother her one bit. At this point, she was practically used to it, even expected and wanted it, and the warm summer sun gave an added spring to her step.

  The morning seemed to pass in an instant, despite the hard work; Lisa saw all of it as pure fun and total delight. She even managed to shift the back wall out a little further to give the place more room. If she got daddy to help, they could probably raise the roof and slide a side wall out as well. Then they could both fit in the place.

  Coming back to the house, she saw several of her uniforms on the clothesline. Ah, good old Dre—daddy, he did my laundry. I better grab them now so I can dress for work.

  She took a hold of the snug shorts and tops and pulled, and was promptly buried in clothes, cords, and wood dowels. The rickety old thing had collapsed and she was tangled in it.

  “Help, help, dad—Drew, get me out of this,” she cried.

  Getting to her feet proved problematic and it only contributed to her troubles; she got still more ensnared by the cords. A soft click sounded on her left. She turned, not an easy thing to do, and saw him emerge from the cellar.

  “Lisa, what in the world is going on here?”

  “It’s this damn old gizmo, it attacked me! Will you help me out of this mess?”

  He chuckled and moved toward her. “Okay, hold still, and I’ll get you straightened out in a—hmmm, wait a minute. Young lady, what do you mean by breaking a piece of daddy’s equipment?”

  “Huh? It’s not my fault; it fell on me,” she whined.

  Drew shook his head. “Excuses, excuses, it’s clear someone needs a special punishment.”

  “But I… oh,” she said softly, finally getting the point. Looking around, she swallowed hard. “Um, you don’t mean a… trip to the… woodshed, do you?”

  “Hmmm, not a bad idea,” he said with a nod. “Off you go then.”

  Moving to her, he marched her inside. She had to sort of hop to keep up as her ankles were rather well snared together. Looking around, he picked up a rug that had been dragged along with her and threw it over a sawhorse. Lisa followed, her head down and her ass high in the air, and then he looked around the shed for an implement. She tingled and squirmed, which only served to further entangle her, and then gasped when he picked up the rug beater. The strap, still hanging on the wall was so old and brittle, it didn’t take a genius to know that one swing of it across her cheeks would cause it to virtually shatter. He took up a proper stance behind her, and she felt the tap-tap of the dreaded implement.

  “So, damage the household goods, will you? Now you’ll learn the error of your ways!”

  Swish—whack!

  Lisa’s eyes grew huge. Never in her life had she felt such a sting. It was like some bizarre figure eight pattern of fire being slashed across her flesh. It didn’t matter that she had her shorts and panties on. The impact truly felt as if it had been on her bare skin. A second and third swat landed, and she found her voice.

  “Ow! Daddy, that stings worse than anything,” she cried.

  “Good, it’s supposed to,” he snapped. “Little girl, I take the conditions of things in my house very seriously. How dare you break something?”

  Swish smack swat!

  “Ouch! But, daddy, it wasn’t my fault,” she whined.

  Whack swoosh swish!

  “Excuses, excuses, I don’t want to hear any of it,” he scolded. “This is another lesson to commit to memory, little girl. You need to look where you’re going, be more careful, and not try to shift the blame away from yourself!”

  That last sentence was punctuated by a hard crack of the rug beater with each word.

  “Owwiieee! Yes, daddy, yessss, I willll—oowwww,” she howled.

  He paused and stood over her. “So, have you learned your lesson?”

  Lisa shivered, squirming in the cords. “Ummm, no, sir,” she said softly, looking up at him.

  She didn’t know who was more surprised, her or Drew. The expression on his face was one of total shock and awe, but she was amazed that the words had actually escaped her lips. Drew quickly recovered and again took fearful aim at her poor bottom.

  “Very well then, we continue,” he said simply.

  “What? No, wait, daddy, I-I was… confused. I didn’t know what I was saying. I was… ah-ah…”

  “Oh, I know what you were doing, little girl,” he snapped. “Your guilty conscious forced itself to the forefront and made you speak the truth!”

  Swoosh, swat!

  “Ow,” she howled. Heaving against the cords, she squirmed and wiggled, but it was pointless. She was truly trapped and would not be released until Drew saw fit to do so. She couldn’t even work her hands around to block the blows. “Ouch! Daddyyyyy, no, I’ve learned, I’ve learned. Be more—ow—careful.”

  Drew heard none of it. He just kept swinging that horrid rug beater, and it kept overlapping blasts of pure fire across her throbbing bottom. Lisa wailed, she begged, she pleaded for mercy. All she got was more swats and scolding. She was trapped and at his mercy, and he had none. All of it, every aspect of her punishment had but one effect on her: it sent her pussy into overdrive and the pleasure center of her brain into orbit. She lost it. Lisa opened her mouth as wide as possible, bawled like a baby, and climaxed. It was the second most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. Only the anal-followed-by-spanking routine was stronger.

  When her mind and body came down, she found herself seated on Drew’s lap. He gently rocked her and
dried her eyes, and she winced and yelped with each movement of his body. Yet, she didn’t mind. She loved and relished every bit.

  “There, there, baby girl, it’s all over. I’m so sorry I had to be so severe with you, but do you understand why I had to?”

  She nodded. “Yes, daddy, I broke something important to you, and had to be punished. In this house there are no accidents. From now on, if I ever so much as drop a spoon on the floor, I hope you’re just as strict with me.”

  Lisa almost smiled to see yet another surprised expression flash across Drew’s face. Clearly he hadn’t expected that attitude either.

  “Really, a spoon? My goodness, sweetie, that’s very strict.”

  “If you truly love me, daddy, you’ll do it. How am I ever going to learn to be a good little girl if I’m not spanked and spanked very long and very hard for every misdeed?”

  He slowly nodded. “I see your point. Clearly I’ve been too lax with you. So be it. From now on, even the tiniest infraction will be dealt with swiftly and severely. Now, come on, let’s get you inside, and I’ll fix you lunch before you go out to play.”

  “Yes, daddy,” she said, hopping down from his lap and swallowing hard. Damn, have I set myself up to get more than I can handle? Oh well, we shall see.

  Once inside, Drew fixed her quite the nice meal and a nice big glass of milk. She really wanted a beer, but knew that was impossible. But what was really impossible was what he also expected of her: that she sit on her new stool. He’d clearly made it himself, and it was quite lovely: it was all hardwood, with an undercoat of white and then covered in myriad small symbols and a big seat. But this was no normal seat. It was the one part of the stool that wasn’t finished as it still had its bark on it. Standing next to the ‘seat of pain,’ Lisa waited for Drew to bring their food to the table. She cringed, dreading the very thought of sitting on the thing, and then she noticed the symbols on the legs and crosspieces of the chair. They were in bright primary colors and each represented an event or aspect of their lives. A stick figure spanking another one, two others in a woodshed with one getting a good thrashing, two more making love in a pretty little bed, and on and on.

  Lisa almost cried fresh tears, tears of joy. Drew had thought long and hard about this stool, put a lot of time and effort into it, and it was clearly a gift of love. Without another moment of hesitation, she climbed up on it and sat. She squeaked and clamped her jaw closed tight until her teeth hurt. Blinking her eyes to keep the tears from running down her cheeks, she bit her lip and shuddered. The pain, the delicious pain shot straight up from her ass to her brain, echoed around in there for a moment, and then plunged to her core.

  It was the third best thing she’d ever felt.

  “Well, I guess I need to be more severe with you next time,” he said, setting her plate and glass before her. “After all, being able to sit on your new stool is no easy feat.”

  “It’s lovely, daddy,” she said, choking back the tears of pain and joy. “I’ll never use anything else.”

  Drew smiled and kissed her forehead. “Oh, baby girl, you have no idea how happy that makes me. Now, eat up, and then get dressed. Remember, bedtime is strictly at nine. If you’re late, you’ll catch it good tomorrow morning.”

  “Ulp! Um, y-y-y-yes, sir,” she squeaked.

  “And don’t forget to take your lines with you to show to Uncle Ken.”

  She nodded, her mouth full of food, and cringed. Oh, what are Ken and the others going to say when they see it?

  Walking down to the restaurant was a new experience in pain and pleasure. Every step renewed the sting in her cheeks, every motion rubbed her shorts across her bare skin, and every tingle of soreness caused a thrust of delight straight between her legs. Then came the humiliation. After she gave Ken the crayon-written lines, he snickered and approved.

  “Thank you, Lisa, these mean a lot to me,” he said.

  Then he pinned the pages up in the kitchen for the entire staff to see. That brought quite the giggles and comments. Several people asked if she’d been told to do them by her daddy, and if that was her only punishment. She tried to control her breathing, force a smile on her face and laugh, and change the subject. Once behind the bar with Yuri, she also tried to focus on work, but the repeated rubbing of her ass was a major distraction, and it wasn’t merely her clothes that were brushing up against her. Yuri was getting a bit grabby. It seemed he felt that now that they’d ‘slept’ together that gave him free rein to feel her up anytime he wanted.

  Finally, she turned to him with fire in her eyes. “Yuri, I’ve had enough of your touchy-feely crap. Touch me again and you’ll pull back a stump instead of a hand!”

  His reaction was priceless and made her almost laugh out loud. He truly looked scared shitless!

  It made her feel good to stand up for herself, and she actually credited Drew inspiring her to do it. Even though she’d always been the sort of person who didn’t let others walk all over her, Drew’s willingness to accept the whole daddy-daughter thing, to indulge her desire for more severe action, and the fact that he had gone the extra mile by making her a piece of specialty furniture had all made her feel like being more proactive. And she knew Drew and that he must have some other things planned, and she positively shivered in anticipation of what they might be.

  Later, plodding home quite late, she was torn as to what she should do for bed. Her desire for physical contact was balanced by her love of their new relationship. This night, she decided to go to her room and curl up to sleep. She giggled to see what Drew had laid out for her: brand new kiddie pajamas, pink with little pixies all over them, and a big fluffy teddy bear. Tossing her dirty clothes on the floor, which she knew would earn her an additional punishment, she slipped on the jammies and turned to admire herself in the mirror. Lisa giggled. The clothes were a bit small and snug on her; the shorts barely covered her ass and the top was stretched tight across her breasts. Turning her back to the mirror, she slid the shorts down and let out a soft whistle. Her fingertips traced the welts on her cheeks and she almost laughed. She looked like she had some sort of Celtic cross or other ancient runes carved into her supple flesh.

  The sting was agonizing bliss!

  A thought came to her. She’d taken pictures of her poor battered butt a couple of times. Why not another, do a whole series? Grabbing her phone, she snapped another spanked selfie, and took a moment to admire the shot. Crawling into bed, she wrapped her arms about her new toy and rolled over on her back.

  A car drove by outside, its headlights briefly illuminating her room and she gasped as she sat up. She winced, but didn’t care. She’d seen something hanging on the wall. Drew had made her a decorative wooden paddle with her name on it, and hung it on the wall over a new stool that sat in the corner. At first she thought it was the stool from the dining room, but in the short instant she’d gotten a look at it, she knew it was different.

  It had some sort of cuffs and straps!

  Her first instinct was to get out of bed and take a closer look at her special little girl chair, but not knowing, the anticipation of finding out in the morning, excited her to no end. She fell asleep with the biggest grin on her face.

  Chapter Nine

  Lisa slept deeply and without a care in the world, despite what awaited her in the morning. In fact, it was because of what she knew she was getting in the morning that she slept so well! Opening her eyes, she shivered and her toes curled. Drew was sitting in a chair in front of the dresser and directly under the paddle. She sat up, holding the sheets in front of her in the classic protective stance as if could somehow shield her from what was to come.

  “Morning, daddy,” she said brightly.

  “Don’t ‘Morning, daddy,’ me, little girl,” he snapped, leaning toward her. “What time did you get in last night?”

  Lisa squirmed and flexed her thighs. His scolding took her breath away. “Um, late, but it wasn’t my fault. We were… playing and I lost track of—”

&n
bsp; Drew brought up his hand with a quick snap and cut her off. “I don’t want to hear your silly excuses,” he barked and pointed at his lap. “Here, now!”

  Meekly climbing out of bed, the wooden floor cool against her bare feet, she got into position without a word of protest. She let out a squeak of surprise when he whisked her pajama bottoms down and off.

  Smack! His firm and delightful hand struck without so much as a word of preparation. After that, he let her have it: full force, high speed, and with a near-constant stream of scolding. This was no ‘paying the rent’ routine. No, she was getting royally spanked, and it sent her mind and body into overdrive.

  “Daddy, daddy, I’m sorry, so sorry. Be good, not do again—ow!”

  “You better not be late again, little girl,” he replied, not letting up one bit. “Do you see what’s on the wall above me?”

  Lisa looked, even though she’d already seen it, and made a point of gasping quite loudly. “Oh, daddy, that looks big and hard.”

  “That it is, and I’m going to use the four strikes rule with you. If you’re late more than four nights in a row, it’s the paddle for you.”

  Now Lisa truly gasped. She saw what Drew was doing. Her schedule was five days on and then two off. That meant she’d get four hand spankings and then one paddling a week, minimum! It didn’t include her special punishments for her past crimes or any new ones she earned. It was clear she would not sit comfortably for the rest of the summer.

  Once Drew was satisfied, he pulled her to her feet, stood, and turned her to the corner. Lisa, clutching her tender bottom, finally got a good look at the new stool. Her jaw dropped. This was no mere stool; it was a diabolical contraption of torture. She tried to speak, to run, to plead for simple corner time, but she couldn’t do any of it. Her entire mind and body were frozen by terror.

  Drew slid the throne of pain back, picked her up with ease, and seated her on the device. Lisa winced and bit her lip as the sensations assaulted her. First there was the main part of the seat: rough, unfinished bark just like her other stool, which chafed her poor stinging seat. Then there were the wrist and ankle restraints. Beautiful leather, soft and supple, and positioned to prevent her from getting any of her weight off of her behind. Finally, there were the most insidious elements: the long hard ass and pussy probes. Once Drew got her properly seated, they went deep inside her. Yet, they weren’t the most demonic aspects of the stool. He had one more trick up his sleeve. The window on her right was open and a gentle morning breeze was wafting the white lace curtains about. That same breeze turned a pinwheel on the side of the stool, and that wheel connected to a series of gears that caused the probes to slide in and out of her.