Claire's New Regime
It felt strange walking back in to my old room after 5 years away it had not
even been decorated since I was last here. Mum and Dad had divorced while I had
been living with John and I would have rather moved in with Mum but her new
bloke wasn't keen so I had ended up here. I knew Dad could be a bit old
fashioned and liked things doing his way but I knew this arrangement wouldn't be
for that long and figured we would get along ok.
Me and John splitting up seem to happen so fast and although I was pretty upset
it wasn't the end of the world and I soon began to catch up with loads of old
mates.
I was soon going out 3 or 4 times a week and began dressing more revealingly
than John would ever have allowed. I was even surprised with some of the mini
skirts I had plucked up the courage to wear and began to feel more like a
teenager than a grown woman of twenty six.
Dad on the other hand was not very impressed and most of the time began to get
more and more annoyed with me. "You look like a right Tart" he would often say
as I went out and said I was getting a reputation with the neighbours for making
a noise when I came home giggling like a drunken schoolgirl. I had been living
back home about two months when he said it was pity Mum never let him
discipline as he wanted when I was growing up or I might not have turned out
into a lazy little tart. I remembered a few occasions as a teenager when Mum and
dad argued over me and how Mum had absolutely forbid him to spank me. To be
honest I had her wrapped around my little finger and did get away with murder as
far as Dad was concerned.
I soon stopped talking any notice of what Dad said and dismissed him with a
surly "yeah whatever" ever time he criticized the way I looked or when I was
lazy around the house.
He had managed to look after the house for two years since mum moved out so why
did I have to do any of the housework. I remember actually openly laughing at
him when he said maybe a dose of the belt on my bare backside would show me some
respect.
The words seem to stay in my head all that night and I kept picturing him
standing with the belt in his hand I knew it was absurd but I had a strange
fascination with it. I drank a little more than usual and my friends said I was
in world of my own all night. God knows what they would have said if I told them
what I was thinking about. I was the first to be dropped off in the taxi later
on and as usual we were all pretty loud, I had told them before how the
neighbours complained about the noise we made and they were louder than ever
this time. I was quite drunk but in an effort to pacify them I bent over to take
my shoes of not to make too much noise on the drive. It turned out not to be
such a good idea as I stumbled over into the wheelie bin, knocking it in to the
car and setting its alarm off. Not only that but I had caught my blouse on my
bangle and in frustration to free it ripped all the buttons off the front.
I was trying to stand the bin up and hold my shoes at the same time when I heard
Dad open the door and click the alarm off "get inside Now" he hissed, I looked
up sheepishly at him and could see he was furious. "Don't you look a sight my
girl" he sneered as I tried to hold my blouse together at the front not daring
to look at him. He pronounced that he had taken all he could from me and he
might regret this in the morning but he was going to show me what he thought I
deserved. I didn't get any time to think about what he meant when he grabbed
hold of my hands and pulled me towards him. For some stupid reason I was more
concerned about him looking at my fancy low cut bra than what was about to
happen. It felt like one movement as in no time he was sitting on a chair and I
was over his knee my head only inches from the floor and my legs dangling
helplessly in mid air. I couldn't work out how it happened; my right arm was
folded behind my back and he was holding it tight in his left hand leaving his
right hand free to flip my skirt up. The more I struggled the tighter he held my
arm making it hurt and with a very smug voice said "you have been asking this
ever since you moved back haven't you Claire". Of course I couldn't answer him
and it was followed by a crisp loud smack to my bum cheek. This was accompanied
by several more and I realized that my choice of knickers had provoked him even
more. "You can't even have the decency to wear proper underwear can you" as he
snapped the elastic of my thong against my bum cheeks.
More slaps rained down on my bottom and I began to wriggle my hips to avoid the
sting, up to now I hadn't said anything and felt so pathetic that I had let him
take me so easily in to this humiliating position. I was contemplating yelling
and calling him all the names under the sun to let me go and instead I managed a
whimpering "pleaseeee dad let me up". "Oh you will have to do better than that
my girl" he replied and seemed to turn up the frequency of the smacks. "Dad this
is not fair, I'm twenty six years old", he cut me off in mid sentence "I don't
care if your ninety six young lady, you are nothing but a lazy disrespectful
little tart and this is only a taste of what you're going to get in future".
I could only gasp as a reply to his words and the hard slaps carried on in
earnest. It was really beginning to take effect and my bottom was well and truly
burning like mad, "please Dad I'm going to be sick let me up" I squealed. I
thought he would take pity on me but he just shrugged "I don't care what you do
Claire, you will clean it up so please yourself", I couldn't believe how cruel
he was being. That was the final straw and I began to blub like a baby, I really
hated myself for making such a fool of myself. In between my crying and sobbing
and sniveling I was pleading like a two year old for him to stop. It was like
someone had flicked a switch and transferred me back in time twenty years, I was
promising to be a good girl and I would really behave myself in future if only
he would let me up.
With out any notice he stopped and let go of my arm, I sort of half fell and
half rolled on to the floor on my knees and just flung my hands to my bum to try
and rub the heat away.
He reached out and put his hand under my chin to make me look at him, "you don't
look much like a grown woman now do you" I could only shake my head in agreement
as he continued to savior his triumph. "Barely five minutes over my knee and
look at you" he smiled "I think we need to instill a little more backbone in to
you Claire don't we" I was nodding stupidly as I imagined how simple it had been
for him to bring me to my knees literally. He stood up and kissed me on the
check and reached down to deliver one final hard smack to my bum, "night Claire
sleep well" he said sarcastically as he went upstairs.
I gingerly stood up and got a glass of water not believing what had just
happened and made my way to sanctuary of my bedroom.
My eyes opened wide instantly as if I had been in middle of a disturbing dream.
It took me a few moments to come round properly and for an instant I did relate
last night graphic memories as a dream but then the horror dawned on me that it
had been all too real. I had an uncontrollable urge to look at my bottom in the
mirror and as I lifted my nightie and turned side ways to crane my neck over I
was strangely disappointed to see only a hint of pink covered the cheeks. The
way I reacted last night I expected to see masses of red marks all over my bum
and it only made me more ashamed of my pathetic display at my Dads handling of
me.
I put my dressing gown on and walked purposefully downstairs determined to tell
my Dad that last night was a one off and I had been very drunk and that he would
be in trouble if her ever tried to do anything like it again. He greeted me with
a wide smile and looked at the clock; I hadn't even noticed it was only eight
thirty and on a Saturday morning I rarely got up before midday. "So a smacked
bottom can make you get up early then Claire" he smiled, I was shocked by the
way he said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. My whole resolve
seemed to melt away at his arrogance and I hated myself for saying nothing to
him. I walked to the kettle to make a coffee and he sat behind to watch me, "has
your bottom got some colour to it then" I cringed at his comment and it felt
very unnerving as if he had known I had looked at it. I could only shrug my
shoulders in an attempt to ignore him but I knew my face burning red with
embarrassment. "Well if you're not going to tell me then I had better take a
look myself" he exclaimed, "if you must know its only just a bit pink", I wanted
to bite my tongue off the moment I said it now he knew I had taken the trouble
to look at it.
I was actually shaking as I brought the cup of coffee to my lips and spilled
some on my dressing gown; I turned to face him and said what I had meant to say
straight away. "Just shut up will you, it only happened because I was drunk you
old fool" I thought I had taken him off balance and he seemed lost for words. He
stood up and left the room, I was delighted; that showed him I thought and now
we could forget the whole episode. I took of my dressing gown and put it in the
washing machine not bothered if he came back to see me in only my nightie he
would see that I was not bothered if he did see a glimpse of my bum beneath it
anyway. I had my coffee in peace and could hear him making a noise in the
dinning room then going upstairs and back down again a few times after about
five minutes he shouted me.
I looked in shock at some bags in the hall way, he had thrown some of my clothes
in them and was zipping them up "Dad" I shrieked "please", "who's the old fool
now young lady". I stood in dumb silence as he told me I had two choices, I
could give him back the key and find somewhere else to tart myself around as he
put it. Or I could go in the dinning room kneel up on the table and have my bum
tanned properly to show me how to behave. His words "tanned properly" kept
running round my head I knew instantly I wanted to see what he would do but at
the same time wanted to scream "fuck off" as loud as I could. With a final
defiant "you smug bastard" I marched into the dinning room to see he had moved
some of the chairs and put the table more in the middle of the room. "Up you
get Claire, we'll see just how smug I can be shall we", I suddenly realized that
unlike last night I was not wearing any knickers. My hand clasped the hem of my
nightie and I looked in sympathy from my Dad "I've got nothing on under this" I
said, just to be met by a sharp "Well that's not my fault is it Claire". I
became much more agitated then "Please Dad let me go and put some on, I can put
a g string or a thong so my bum will still be bare" I said in desperation. "And
why do I want to see some or your tarty underwear my girl", I pleaded with him
that that was not what I meant and said it was not right that he saw me all
exposed. His reaction was indignant that he was plainly aware of what a grown
woman had between her legs and it should add nicely to my shame as my behavior
had made him feel ashamed of me.
I was almost in tears as I climbed on the table trying to keep my nightie from
ridding up my back was impossible as he told me to kneel and bend right over,
with a last lingering "please Dad" I put both my elbows on the table. The stupid
nightie slid all the way down my back right up to my neck and bunched under my
breasts below me. I could not imagine a more humiliating position to be in let
alone having my Dad being able to walk freely around me and look from any angle.
He waited patiently saying I had a new regime now and I better get used to it
and I wanted to yell for fucks sake get on with it as he rambled on about there
being some changes in the household and this would be a position I would become
used to. I felt his hand touch the cheeks of my bum and gasped in total
humiliation as he squeezed them and realized just how far apart they were by his
fingers trailing in my cleft and knew he could see my bottom hole on full view.
He was determined to shame me beyond belief as he had the cheek to say he ought
to put me on diet and gave my bum cheeks a kind of a shake at the same time.
I knew I was no Kylie but by no means was I fat either and I tried in
desperation to keep my legs as tightly closed as possible as he ran his hand
down to the back of my knee. 'Noooooo Dad you can't" I wailed as he pulled one
knee away from the other then pushed the opposite one as far as he could, with
his other hand he was pushing my back down, "stick that naughty bottom as high
as you can Claire" he sounded amused and thoroughly please with himself at my
ludicrous display. I could feel myself opening up as I thrust my bum as high as
I could and even felt the air trail between my open thighs. He had walked in
front of me now and dangled his belt in front of my face; "this is going to make
your backside dance my girl" he smiled. I could hear him take his place behind
me and then I heard the dreaded swish followed by the loud crack of it smacking
on to my bare flesh. It made me jerk forward and slump my tummy to the table but
my knees stayed where they were making my thighs open even wider, he swung the
belt hard twice on my quivering cheeks and demanded I stick my fat arse up in
the air where it belonged. I obeyed his cruel words and began to sob with the
mixture of pain and total humiliation I was suffering. He was delivering one
swipe of the belt about every minute, waiting for me to push my bum as high as I
could and saying good girl as I did. It began to take me longer and longer to
get my bottom back in the air and all the wriggling I was doing had made my
nightie fall over my head and release my breasts to hang down and swing
obscenely with each smack.
I was openly crying by now as my Dad helped the nightie off my arms with a
sarcastic "I don't this is covering much up now do you Claire". The pain was
really building up and I was craving to rub my tender cheeks to try and sooth
them and after the next stroke I lunged full length of the table pressing my
boobs hard on to the wood and reaching behind me to rub frantically at my bum.
The cold of the table on my front was stark contrast to the burning of my bottom
and I could feel my nipples harden as my whole body moved as I rubbed. I didn't
want to get up and let my dad see my hard nipples and stayed rubbing until he
took hold of my hands. "You can have a rest for a few minutes" he almost sounded
companionate and he helped me up but made me stay kneeling on the table this
time with my hands on my head although my knees were still wide apart.
I could see him looking directly at my chest, my nipples standing firm making me
feel even more ashamed, "you really are a little tart aren't you Claire". With
out thinking I whispered "yes' which made him laugh out loud and he made me tell
him properly what I was.
"Yes dad' I am a proper little tart" I could feel my face burn as red as could
be as I said the words and Dad just stood smiling at me. He walked round me
again and patted my bum, "I think your enjoying this Claire", I had stopped
crying by now and did feel very confused about how I did actually feel and my
bottom had stopped really hurting and was sort of burning with a kind of
numbness that felt nice. I shook my head at my Dad's question only for him to
repeat it emphasizing it with a smack to my bum and I could not help but admit I
was enjoying it. He called me a very naughty little girl indeed and then told me
he thought a little more humiliation was what I needed.
He walked out of the room and returned with his mobile phone, I looked in
bewilderment as he spoke to a friend of his called Harry, he was older than my
dad and I never really liked him he was always leering at me. All of a sudden he
put the phone to my ear "so your dad has put you in your place has he Claire?"
with a slight hesitation I replied "I suppose he has". I looked at my dad in
trepidation as Harry asked if he ought to come over and see for himself. Dad
looked at me straight in my eyes and told me it was up to me, I couldn't think
of anyone who I wanted to see me least than the fat slimy Harry but I just
replied "yes Mr. wainwright you can come and see, I am just a little tart who
deserves all I get".
