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DISCIPLINED BY HER DADDY - BOOK ONE

by Louis Woodley


Caught Sneaking in Past Curfew

I knew I was in serious trouble, but as I pulled up to our driveway I saw that all the lights were out in our house. Maybe my parents had already gone to bed? If I was careful I might be able to sneak in without waking them up. I'd probably still get busted in the morning for being out past my curfew, but I might be able to fudge the time I got home a little so it didn't look quite so bad.

My older brother Eric had taught me how to cut off the car and let it coast into the driveway to park without making incriminating noises to attract attention (he was a veteran curfew violator). I also remembered to avoid the squeaky step on the front porch and how to turn the door slowly and carefully to avoid it creaking.

All I had to do was tiptoe up the stairs and I'd be home free. My parents' bedroom was all the way at the other end of the floor, so I could dive into my room and play innocent if I heard them coming.

Unfortunately, everything blew up at that moment when a lamp switched on in the den.

"Bit after midnight, isn't it?" Crap, it had to be Dad. If it was Mom I could turn on the 'remember when you were young' routine and guilt her into not being so irritated with me. But song-and-dance routines like that never worked with Dad. The only singing he was interested in with a situation like this was how loud you sung while you were getting your butt whopped.

Speaking of which... when he got up out of the armchair I couldn't help noticing the belt in his hand. I mean, I knew that he wouldn't be happy if he caught me coming home nearly an hour and a half late, but I guess I'd forgotten how he'd express that displeasure. I was pretty much defenseless, so all I could say was, "Yes sir, I'm sorry."

"Study, now!" He pointed to the hall leading to his office.

"Daddy, please, I'm sorry. I just lost track of time. I didn't mean to be so late."

"Study now or in front of the family in the morning. Your call."

Shit shit shit! I certainly wasn't in the mood for an ass whipping, but I sure didn't want to put on a show for my brothers first thing on Sunday morning. Eric was off at college, but David and Kyle would have a field day harassing me (and they'd be sure to let Eric know I'd gotten caught). Plus I'd have to sit through church on that hard wooden pew on my smoking tail. There really was only one choice.

"I'll take it now, Daddy."

"I thought you might. Go get ready and I'll be right there."


I can't believe I screwed up this badly. And the sad thing is that I don't have any kind of great excuse. I mean, if I was drunk I might have forgotten about the time, although now Dad would be whipping my butt for drinking as well. Or if I was making out with some guy I could have been way too distracted to think about my curfew.

But I don't have any extenuating circumstances. I was just hanging out with my friends, then somebody asked what time it was, and all of a sudden it was, "Oh shit I'm in trouble!"

Dad's lickings are always on your bare bottom, so don't even bother begging otherwise unless you want to make him madder. So I pull out one of the chairs and move it into the center of the room to give Dad more room to work.

I kick off my shoes so that I can take off my jeans and panties. I shove the undies into a pocket so they stay together (Dad was mega-embarrassed one time when he spanked me right before a client arrived and I left my undies in the chair). Then I fold the jeans up and put them in the chair so I can kneel on top of them. I'm leaning over the top of the chair with my butt poking out, wearing nothing but socks below my waist.

Moments later, Dad comes in and closes the door behind him. "Alright, explain to me why you were so late getting in?"

I tell him the honest truth that I simply wasn't paying attention to the time until it was way too late. I guess it seemed a little too simple so he started checking for holes in my story.

"You weren't at a party?"

"No sir, I was just over at Janice's house. There were other people there but it wasn't a party or anything."

"Were you drinking?"

"No Dad, I swear. Here, you can smell my breath. Her parents were right there with us; it was them going to bed that made us realize how late it had gotten."

"And you and Mark weren't groping around in somebody's bedroom?"

"Jesus, Dad, no! Remember, he's gone for another recruiting visit this weekend. That's why I went to Janice's, remember? All that happened was that we weren't paying attention to the time. I'm sorry, I screwed up, but I promise you that's all it was."

"You'd better be using protection because we're too young to be grandparents."

OMG, is he serious? "Dad, I swear I'm still a virgin!" The way I'm blushing like hell must convince him; I can't be much of a shameless harlot if I can't even say the word 'virgin' without turning red.

"That's nice to know but just be careful, okay? I used to be a teenage boy and they think with their dicks. I know back then that I was..."

"DAD! Please!" The last thing I want to do is think about my Dad as a horny teenager; there are some images you just don't want in your mind.

(Full disclosure: we've been dating for a few months and I gave Mark my first ever hand job Thursday night. I don't have any frame of reference, but that thing looked too big for me to want it stuck you-know-where anytime soon. I didn't really know what I was doing but Mark said I was doing fine. But that sticky explosion at the end kinda ruined it; I mean that stuff went everywhere! If I give him another one I'm wearing a poncho! Now you see why I'm blushing having this discussion with my Dad in the middle of the night?)

"Is your cell phone charged?" Thank God he changed the subject, although I think my face cheeks are still as red as my butt cheeks are about to be.

"Yes sir, it's in my purse. You can check."

"So if I check your phone am I gonna see the two messages I sent asking your ETA?"

Oh crap! I'd been in such a hurry to get home I hadn't even thought about checking my phone.

"Yes sir, I guess you will."

"That cell phone isn't doing you much good if you don't check it, is it?"

"No sir. I'm sorry I worried you and Mom. Once I realized how late it was I just tried to get home as soon as possible."

"And come in as quietly as possible so you didn't wake us up. That was very considerate of you..." Did I mention that my Dad can be really sarcastic when he's got you nailed?

"Well, the lights were out so I figured everyone was asleep..."

"Except for your father waiting for you to finally trot your butt home."

"Yes, Daddy. Like I said, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay out too late but I also wasn't doing anything that would get me in trouble with you."

At that point the interrogation ended and Dad started to ponder my fate. I thought I'd presented a good case; I admitted my guilt, didn't argue with him, and hadn't been doing anything stupid that would have gotten me in more trouble. Hopefully, that would help with the guy deciding my fate. I learned what not to do from my brothers, because they can be total morons when dealing with Dad.

Finally, the judge was ready with his ruling. "This time, seven licks. But if you do it again it's the full 17 regardless of the circumstances. Understood?"

You wouldn't think I'd be happy about being told I was about to get seven licks from my father's belt, but considering what it could have been I was thrilled. Dad starts with one lick/year of age as a baseline (which is where the 17 comes from in my case), and then he does additions and subtractions, based on what he learns from the interrogation, until he arrives at a decision and announces how many you're getting.

For me to only be getting seven meant I'd presented a pretty good defense and he wasn't terribly mad at me for keeping him up so late. Of course, since there would only be seven I knew they'd be butt scorchers that would make me yelp.

My biggest concern was keeping my voice down so I didn't wake up my jerk younger brothers; I knew they'd have a field day at church tomorrow telling their friends how they got woken up by my whipping. I wasn't looking forward to that wooden pew, but it would be better on a butt that got whipped hours ago than one that got blistered at breakfast time.

So I told my Dad I understood and wouldn't make that mistake again. Then I held on tight to the chair and prayed I wouldn't holler too loud, because I knew the licks were about to start. That belt is two and an eighth inches wide (Kyle measured it) so it leaves a big stripe across your butt wherever it smacks you.

"Okay, Lisa, let's get this over with and get in bed..."

SWISH!

Shitshitshit! Every single time I forget how much that damn belt stings. With four kids, Dad has become a master at swinging it just right so it feels like a bomb is exploding on your butt! The whole right side of my rear feels like it's on fire. I remembered to grit my teeth at the last moment, so I think what came out of my mouth was something like "Mmrrrgghh!"

SWISH!

"Aaaggghhh!" Dammit! Dad must want to get this over with in a hurry because I wasn't prepared for the second swat that soon. He usually takes his time to make sure we savor the feeling of having our ass lit on fire but not tonight. And since it hit about half on my sit-spot and half on my upper thigh, it's all I can do to not scream like a banshee when it lands. As it is, I'm afraid I might have been loud enough to wake up someone. I wish I could strap some duct tape across my mouth to keep me quiet.

SWISH!

Holy shit; make that two pieces of duct tape! Dad is swinging for home runs tonight. I can't help groaning out loud and I'm drumming my feet against the edge of the chair.

SWISH!

I can't believe that I screw up. It catches me right at the edge of the butt crack and it stings so much that I forget what I'm doing. Next thing I know I've got both my hands rubbing the point of impact. Moving your hands in the way is a major screw up; if Dad accidentally whacked me on the hand the mark would still be visible in the morning for everyone to see. Then David and Kyle would know I'd been whipped.

Dad's mad because I've interrupted his rhythm and been unsafe. He warns me to get back in position; we always get one warning, but if we mess up again it's automatically gonna be extra swats.




© Louis Woodley
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