by Louis Woodley
David Arnold was a man who'd made his mark as a venture capitalist before stepping back to dabble and enjoy his wealth. He had the usual interests including fine wines and scotch, powerful cars, and of course a mansion in the countryside; but he also had a unique proclivity, manifest by his regular encounters with young ladies who had damaged their futures with their irresponsible behaviors. Such behavior led to careers lost to carousing, damaging online posts, photos that should never have been shared, a marked lack of respect for those in authority over them, etc.
Now that he had the time to dedicate to the problem, he'd noted a common theme amongst those women who'd torpedoed their careers in such spectacular fashion. They'd invariably been given free rein to do as they wanted when they were younger and had never been taught proper discernment and the need for appropriate behavior. He was well aware that his viewpoint went against the mainstream in this regard. Specifically, he was a firm believer that teenage girls were far better behaved if their fathers provided them with firm and consistent discipline, to both correct mistakes made and to ward off future lapses in judgment. The discipline was provided in the form of good old fashioned corporal punishment. There was nothing that elucidated the importance of respecting authority and following the rules quite like the rigorous application of a flying hand or well-chosen implement to make buttocks bounce and redden and voices rise in misery along with pleas for forgiveness.
And naturally this notification of parental disapproval was best applied when those buttocks were bared of all layers of protection. Pops on jean-covered backsides would do in a pinch, where the baring of a daughter's bottom wasn't logistically feasible. However, the father in question should consider it to only be a down payment on the future delivery of a bare butt blistering, to be delivered expediently when the ability arose. Naturally he shouldn't consider stinting on the latter punishment just because he'd chafed his hand against her protected cheeks earlier. No, she deserved a full dose of scorching swats to make her legs kick and her voice raise like an opera singer during an aria, and it was his duty to deliver it for her own good. It had worked well for all three of his daughters; while they certainly hadn't enjoyed having their little fannies fried, they'd grown up to be respectable young ladies.
He was convinced he could tell which young ladies had been kept in check during their formative years and which had been allowed to run wild because their fathers hadn't taken charge of them... but by then they were already adults and it was too late for them then. He needed to reach them while they were younger and still impressionable; it would also make the lives of so many fathers easier if they'd stop letting their little princesses do whatever they wanted. So he considered it to be his civic duty to provide guidance to fathers who'd hit the wall with their teenage girls and needed help retaking charge of their households. That way, when the girls left home they'd be more likely to succeed and less likely to get into trouble.
David considered many fathers today were too namby-pamby, and more worried about damaging their precious child's delicate ego than leaving red handprints that would do her far more good in the long run. He sometimes felt like he was a voice crying out in the wilderness, railing against a sea of 'experts' claiming that Little Susie will be traumatized for life if Daddy swats her butt for running out into the road. Seriously? Wouldn't it be far more traumatizing for her to be hit by a car? He would guarantee that a few swift smacks on the seat would make her think twice about going out into the street far better than making her sit in 'time out'.
To him teenage girls were incorrigible if they didn't have the threat of swift retribution to keep them on their toes. And that is why he felt the need to set up a retreat where everything could be worked out for reluctant fathers. So one weekend every month he decided to host a father/daughter retreat at his mansion, an isolated residence with nosy neighbors nearby to accidentally observe or interfere. He would teach the fathers how to take charge and the daughters to obey. And while there were painful lessons for the girls, he also insisted they communicate, to hopefully reduce the future need for a dad to spank his daughter.
The weekend was spent at a nominal charge with accommodations and meals provided. It was restricted to teenage girls, since they were his target audience. Some people might feel he was being misogynistic by only focusing on fathers and daughters. But he could only do so much and chose to teach from experience. Also logistically, with the girls sharing a room and their frequently bared bottoms, it made it unfeasible for sons to participate.
Mrs. Arnold couldn't argue with her husband's philosophy; it had worked quite well with their daughters. So if this was how he wanted to dedicate one weekend every month then that was okay with her. However, she had no desire to listen to young girls squealing all weekend and strange men traipsing around in their boxers searching for the bathroom. No thank you. She made sure the house was well-provisioned and then took off with friends for a few days of pampering far from the smacks and shrieks.
David was ambivalent about the actual process of baring a young girl's bottom for chastisement, because each had its way of mortifying the girl on the receiving end. The important thing was the end result; i.e. a pair of quivering naked buttocks just waiting to be reddened. The girl's chin would be quivering as well as she prepared to meet her fate.
Some swore by making the girl undress herself, either completely or just below the waist, and then wait with her hands on her head or nose in a corner to contemplate the licking she was going to receive.
Others found it effective to stand passively watching and make their daughter undress herself in their presence. It often led to pleading and stubbornness that resulted in additional smacks being delivered to the eventually-bare butt. An especially embarrassing variation preferred by some right-thinking fathers involved the whole family being there to witness her forced undressing and subsequent ass-roasting.
But if he was forced to recommend a process, there was nothing quite as humiliating for a teenage girl as to have to stand passively while her father unbuttons and unzips her jeans. It makes her feel like a little kid again as Daddy gets a firm grip and then yanks her jeans all the way down to her ankles. And even that is a picnic compared to feeling his fingers digging in on the side of both hips, and then in one fell swoop pulling her undies down to join her jeans. This has quite the humbling effect on someone who's gotten too big for her britches and needs a stern reminder that there are rules in her family and consequences for breaking them.
And once the bottom was bare and legs starting to tremble, it would be time to get down to business. Some fathers prefer to deliver a lecture first or make the recipient recite why she is about to wind up with a roasted rump (and even more excruciating for her if she has to ask Daddy to spank her for her sins). Others just prefer to let their hands (or belts or paddles, etc.) do the talking for them; any response expected from their daughter is normally of the bawling and thrashing around variety.
No matter the process that got them to that point, the end result in David's opinion, should always be redness and tears to show contrition. To some dads that color might be crimson, for others burgundy or even maroon, depending on their individual palates and the crimes of the recipient.
Some might just wallop their daughter's cheeks, while others might lash sit spots or stripe thighs as well, but they all worked towards the same common goal. By the end they should be looking at a bright red fanny and hearing sobbing remorse. The message should have been received loud and clear that Little Miss Smart-Mouth was not the one in charge in their house, and her father will happily provide a refresher if she ever suffers amnesia regarding this issue. Only then should she be allowed to streak away, red bottom looking like taillights fading as she dashes to her room to bawl and bemoan her fate. It's difficult not to break into a smile when her jeans and panties are still tangled around her ankles, forcing her to shuffle like a penguin rather than pulling them up on her scalded flesh.
It was early Friday evening and this month's participants would be arriving soon. He pulled out his notes and read them one last time, waiting for them to arrive.
His weekend guests were: Roger Bryant and his daughter Karen (16); Robert Carter and Lisa (17); Laurie Summers (16) and her new stepfather John Warren; Christopher Reynolds and Darlene (16); and Michael James had two daughters attending with him: Melissa (15) and Carolyn (14). Mr. Arnold's youngest daughter Amanda was a freshman in college now, barely older than these girls, and she would be assisting him in the beginning to make the girls at home. They also had some catching up to do that would serve as an introduction for this weekend of learning.
Single father Roger Bryant had hit the end of the rope with his daughter Karen. Things had been fine when she was little, but now that she was in high school he was struggling to deal with her changing attitude and behavior. He had seen the advertisement for Mr. Arnold's program and, after some pondering, had determined that this might be exactly what was needed to bring her back under control again.
When he raised that possibility, Karen had been dismissive; she was too old for such juvenile punishment. He assured her that, according to Mr. Arnold, she was actually at the age she needed his firm hand the most, and so he was registering them for the training. Naturally she'd pushed back, claiming it wasn't fair and she wouldn't participate. But he had an ace up his sleeve. There was a two week horse riding camp that Karen had her heart set on attending during the summer. But it was highly expensive and he was now unwilling to reward her by funding it, given her recent behavior. The threat immediately earned promises of improved behavior, but he offered her an ultimatum instead.
She would attend the training with him and be bound by the resulting rules until she left for camp. They could reexamine the issue once she returned, but until that occurred she was obligated to cooperate if she expected him to fund her event. She waffled, not wanting to give up her dream but also not liking the idea of suddenly starting to get her butt spanked either. But after extracting a promise that the policy would truly be up for discussion once she returned, she reluctantly agreed to attend.
Now, getting out of the car and seeing the estate where her father was going to learn to beat her ass, she wondered if she'd made the right choice. Fortunately, another car pulled up at that moment, and the girl in the front seat looked as terrified as she felt. Well, at least there would be someone to commiserate with over how heartless their fathers were...
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