Spank & Correct: Everyone Says I'm Sorry

Dad said, "Did you sleep well?"

I nodded entering the kitchen and feeling especially exposed with my clothing from the previous day still resting on the back of my chair. It was even odder noticing Mom, wearing nothing more than an apron as she went about her otherwise normal morning routine. Shaking the thoughts from my head and pushing passed the point of embarrassment, I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured myself a hot cup of coffee. Dad continued to watch me as I sat down at the table, across from him and his morning paper.

"Not feeling like throwing another temper tantrum are we?" Dad asked over the rustling of the paper as he folded it up and set it aside on the table.

I said, "No, sir," and sipped from my steaming cup.

"That's an improvement," Dad said carefully watching my face for any signs of rebellion, "I called Mrs. Anderson to confirm your story about being off for the rest of the week."

"I thought you might," I said keeping my attitude as nonchalant as possible and pretending to be more interested in my coffee than anything Dad had to say.

"I also told her you'd be giving notice on Monday," Dad said his eyes hardening their stare as if to say the point was non-negotiable.

It took a bit of effort to remain calm, but after a couple of deep breaths I managed it. I said, "We should discuss that."

Dad nodded and sipped from his own mug before he said, "I realize you only took this job because I was pushing you and in hindsight, I realize it was a mistake."

I knew where the conversation was going and I knew I had to somehow change his mind, but the path to that end was murky at best. If I came across as too defensive it would not be to my benefit and if I came out as too encouraging, it would be just as bad. A middle line was required and they have never been strong suit.

"You did push me," I said, carefully agreeing with him, "But I'm glad you did. I know you probably don't understand it, but I like my job."

"After what they just put you through?" Dad asked, his face telling me exactly how incredible he found it to believe.

"It was my fault," I said, biting my lip and staring into the darkness of my mug. Eerily, it reminded me of my dream as I saw my face reflected back at me. "I stepped out of line and was appropriately disciplined for it."

Mom banged a pan against the stove top and turned toward me as Dad and I looked over to her, startled. She bristled at me and said, "You can accept the cold, unfeeling discipline of a corporate giant and yet when your own father attempts the same out of love and concern you see fit to attack him? You'll forgive me if I find your explanations a little hard to accept."

"They aren't trying to control every little detail of my life," I said seething with barely contained anger.

"Neither are we," Dad said defensively.

"Maybe not," I said regaining control of my anger, "But when you go and take away my apartment without even discussing the matter with me, it feels a lot like my life is being managed for me."

Dad stared at me for a long quiet minute while responses filtered through his head. I picked up my mug to take a nervous sip, but just before it reached my lips, he said, "I'm sorry." I nearly dropped the mug. Without words, I blinked surprise in Morse code or at least it could have been. Of all the things I expected him to say, wanted him to say, an apology had never even entered my thoughts.

After a long sip of his coffee, Dad continued, "I stand by my decision. You have not acted responsibly enough to keep that apartment, but it was rash to cancel the lease without telling you first."

"I can't say I completely agree with your assessment, but I can understand your perspective," I said struggling with a twinge of guilt evoked by his unexpected apology. "I'm sorry I slapped you. I was angry, understandably so I think, but still it's no excuse."

Dad smiled at me for the first time in a long time and it felt warm like the sun was finally shining down on me. He said, "Now there is the daughter I raised."

I returned his smile with a blush coloring my cheeks, but not of embarrassment. It was a mixture of humility and pride surging through me because in his eyes I could see he was pleased with me once again and as much as I might want to deny it, part of me craved his approval. I said, "I know you've got reason to discipline me and whatever you decide will undoubtedly be fair, but I would be most grateful if you could see fit to give me another chance with my job. I know it's not the most glamorous of positions and certainly it falls short of your expectations, but I honestly believe I'm making progress toward a future and a career that will make it all worthwhile."

Mom said, "How long should we wait, six months, a year, five years? At what point are you going to stop chasing fantasies and start living in the real world?"

I turned toward her with an angry response on the tip of my tongue but before I could speak, Dad said, "I'll thank you to let me handle this and you would be smart to focus your energies on your own responsibilities if you know what's good for you."

Mom and Dad stared at each other for a moment until Dad started to push himself back from the table with obvious intentions. Mom quickly said, "Yes, dear," and returned to her cooking without further comment or sideways glances. Dad watched her for at least a minute before scooting back up to the table and turning his attention back to me.

"This job really means that much to you?" Dad asked.

In his eyes I could see I had the briefest of chances to convince him and all I had to do was not say the wrong thing. I considered my words carefully and then said, "I made a mistake when choosing my major in college and that mistake has consequences. Putting in my time at Quondam can help make things right by giving me work experience for a major corporation. Even if I fail to gain a promotion into a better position at Quondam, the work experience can help counterbalance my poor choice in degrees."

"Quondam is not the only place you can gain work experience," Dad said.

I said, "I know, but I've already started with it there and cutting it short now will only set me back. I just want to finish what I've started, one way or another."

"Alright," Dad said nodding his head, "I'll let you continue there for now, but I want you to put a definitive goal down in writing by the end of the weekend and if you can't meet it in a reasonable time frame then we are going to revisit this conversation and make some changes."

I held back my excitement and relief, although I was certain I could arrange whatever was necessary to appease my parents through Mr. Candle. It remained necessary, in the meantime, for my parents to believe it was still going to be a difficult achievement or else they would begin to suspect deception. I said, "Thank you. I won't let you down, I promise."

"There is one other thing," Dad said, "I will speak with Mrs. Anderson and I expect you to approve whatever is necessary so that she can and will notify me of any trouble you get yourself into at work. I'm sure you would rather keep those things private, but I will not allow you to disgrace yourself at work without consequences here at home as well."

I nodded my head in agreement. He was right, I would have preferred to keep him in the dark, but it was also my intention to avoid further embarrassments at work so it should not matter in the end anyway. Of course things rarely go quite as planned and a spanking here and there is not entirely unexpected, hopefully Dad would be reasonable if and when such things happen. I said, "That's perfectly reasonable and you have my word to do what is necessary to arrange it."

"Then it's settled," Dad said.

I said, "Ah, just one little question though. What do you consider a reasonable amount of time?"

Dad pondered the question while sipping from his mug. I took the opportunity to sip away nervously at my own as I noticed Mom scooping breakfast onto plates. Dad sat his mug down with a clunk on the table and I turned back to him. He said, "I think six months is sufficient to see significant progress toward your goals, don't you?"

I swallowed as if the short time made me nervous and bit at my lip before nodding. I said, "Yes, I think, I ah, can manage that."

"Good," Dad said and Mom sat down breakfast plates in front of us. A moment later she joined us with a plate of her own and we fell into a familiar silence eating the morning meal. I even momentarily forgot I was sitting naked at the table until I dropped a crumb of hot bacon in my lap. Still, it almost felt like life was getting back to normal on the home front.

After breakfast and while Mom was clearing away the dishes and cleaning up after us, Dad cleared his throat and returned his gaze to me. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the attention and certain it was not favorable. Dad said, "I've given a lot of thought on how to deal with your behavior from yesterday. As we've already mentioned my own actions while not excusing your behavior did in fact negatively influence it and I think it is only fair to consider that as well."

I returned to chewing on my lip and wished my cup had not run dry. The odds of him letting things go without my bottom being reddened at least once more were extremely slim to the point of non-existence. It also stood to reason the more I said in my defense, the deeper I would dig myself into trouble. While his relaxed style of oral consideration seemed to invite comment, I knew better than to make any suggestions and remained silent.

"Obviously striking your parent is entirely unacceptable and storming out of the house was nothing short of a childish antic, proven by your return and subsequent apology," Dad said and I nodded giving the appearance of agreement if not consent for him to continue.

"And then there was your behavior during dinner, appalling," Dad said, shaking his head at the memory. I looked down at the table wishing I had at least had the common sense to take things seriously the previous evening.

"I think last night's spanking was probably sufficient for that though," Dad said much to my relief, "On the other hand while washing your mouth out was certainly a step in the right direction for your earlier behavior it definitely falls short of fair correction."

"I think a week of being grounded is reasonable, don't you?" Dad said.

It did not sound all that bad to me. I nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

Dad said, "That means you don't go anywhere other than work and when at home you will be kept busy with plenty of chores. There will be no entertainment, no phone calls without my approval and a good, sound spanking after breakfast each day."

I told myself it could be a lot worse and tried to be pleased it was not, but still it felt a little bit unfair to me, not that I would ever say so to Dad. I said, "Yes, sir. I appreciate your leniency."

"Then it's settled," Dad said with a curt nod. "Go and get the leather paddle from the table and bring it to me and we'll get your first spanking over with."

I took a deep breath and nodded. Pushing back from the table, I said, "Yes, sir," and stood up. Much as I wanted to drag my feet, I walked quickly to the living room a picked up the implement from the where it laid discarded from the night before. Returning to the kitchen, Dad had moved my chair out of the way and was standing beside the empty place at the table waiting for me. He took the paddle from my hand with an almost sympathetic smile which almost had me thinking he was dreading the spanking as much as I was. Of course, I'm sure it was just for my benefit.

"Over the table," He said, gesturing toward it with the paddle.

I forced my hesitant feet forward and leaned myself over the table grasping the far end. A moment later the paddle slapped against my still tender buttocks, reawakening the previous evenings discomforting sensations. I stared ahead at the window looking out to the side of the house and counted myself lucky the blind remained closed. Bracing myself, I waited for the next swat to fall as Dad positioned himself for a better vantage.

Just when I thought he might have decided to stop with a single swat, unlikely I know but when you wait so long logic has a way of twisting itself, the next one fell. I jerked against the table at the surprisingly efficient sting imparted by the soft paddle. Dad raised it again and swished it back down at high velocity, obviously tired of waiting. Each swat followed the previous with barely time for a thought between. I squirmed against the table and gripped the edges until my knuckles turned white as the sting steadily increased. Tears began to drip from eyes and my thoughts increasingly turned toward pleas for mercy. I steeled myself against them, but the tears fell anyway.

My butt burned with the shame of a badly behaved girl and no doubt had the blush appropriate of such shame as well. When Dad finally laid on the last swat, I burst into sobs and my voice broke as I said, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please no more."

Dad's rough hand slipped through the stray hands of my long hair as he said, "There, there it's all over for now." His strong arms lifted me from the table and then enveloped me in a hug. I sobbed into his shirt and wrapped my arms around him seeking comfort and forgiveness. In my ear he whispered, "I know it hurts, but that's what happens when you behave like such a bad girl."

"I'm sorry," I said clutching him and wiping my crying eyes on his shoulder. He patted my bare back and said, "I know. It's okay, I still love you."