by Susan Thomas
"Be truthful: you want to be spanked."
"No," Amy answered the mirror as if the statement had been made by it and not by her, "I don't want to be spanked thank you very much. I just want somewhere to go this summer when the university is closed."
The face in the mirror stared back sceptically. "You could go home."
Amy answered again as if the mirror had talked to her. "What, with Mum away on that course and me on my own. No thanks. The area is getting nastier by the minute and I could be a target especially with some of the kids I know from school days."
"But why Rebecca's home? You haven't tried anyone else. Her dad was nice to you, I know, but he made it clear that he would regard himself as in loco parentis and entitled to discipline you just like he does Rebecca."
Amy carried on staring at the mirror, seeing her hazel eyes stare back. The truth was that Amy envied everything about Rebecca's life. Amy's mum had become pregnant with her when she was seventeen and given birth just one month after her eighteenth birthday. Her father was nowhere to be seen and they lived with Amy's grandparents until both died when Amy herself was eight. After that they lived on their own. Amy had always longed to have a father. Some of her friends had fathers. Julie had two: her real one and a lovely stepfather as well.
Amy's mother had to work hard to keep them both so Amy's life was full of emergency care arrangements and little contact with her mum. The area was rough and getting worse every year. If it had not been for her intelligence she might have been a school failure and dropout. As it was, she scraped by and managed to get a place at the University of Northern England. It was as far away from her London home as she could sensibly get.
Rebecca was her roommate. Amy very soon realised that Rebecca was kinder, nicer, happier, better organised, tidier and more consistent in her attitude to work. All this was due, she decided, to a very different upbringing. Rebecca had a stay at home mum while her father supported them all. They lived in a rather isolated valley community where they knew everyone to the point that even non-relatives were like an extended family.
Amy knew Rebecca's parents were strict with her. They got in contact weekly and expected their daughter to reciprocate. Amy's mum never had time to contact her. Rebecca had been brought up with curfews, jobs, homework checks and a whole raft of house rules that had never been Amy's lot... her mum simply had no time or energy to spare for all that. It was only after Christmas that Amy found out about the corporal punishment.
On their first day back, Rebecca had sat down very carefully indeed. After that happened several times, Amy asked her why. It was only with great difficulty that she found out that Rebecca had been spanked by her father just the day before their return. When she finally got Rebecca to show her bottom, it was clear that the spanking had been good and hard.
Spanked she might have been but Rebecca loved her dad. He was still her hero... just as he had been when she was eight years old. Amy gradually began to tease out details of Rebecca's family life: the love, the fun, the constant care, and the discipline. Misbehaviour often meant a good spanking. Not just for Rebecca but Roderick, her younger brother and also her mum. That did shock Amy, but apparently the community believed in consensual domestic discipline.
Amy began to think that growing up in a community like that, and with a dad who actually cared, would be worth getting spanked from time to time. She really envied the way Rebecca's face lit up when her dad phoned her. Why couldn't she have a dad? Well, it was too late now she thought.
Then in early summer her mum rang her. A rare enough occurrence in itself but her mother had both good and bad news. "I am to be promoted. It will mean a huge pay rise," she said.
"Great news! Well done Mum you deserve it. What's the job?"
"I am to be in charge of diversity issues in the company. You know the lot: policies, training, appointments."
"Good grief! What do you know about diversity issues?"
"Nothing. I think it's more a case that no one else wanted the job. Now for the bad news. When London University closes for summer a long residential course will be run. It's ten weeks darling, and intensive. I might get the odd day to come home but I have to attend."
That was the issue. Both Amy and her mum had begun to think that the area they had lived in all their lives was now unsafe, especially for women on their own. They could shut the front door and pretend nothing had changed, but it wasn't true. Anne, Amy's mum, was keen for her to go and stay with her roommate's family, but then she didn't know about the corporal punishment.
Talking to the mirror helped. The mirror helped her to think it all through and in the end Amy decided it would be like playing, or pretending, she had a dad. Frank Canning, Rebecca's father, had made it clear she would be treated as if she was a daughter not a guest. Good! It would be a summer of having a father and if she got spanked... well then it would be an experience few got these days.
As the university arrived at the end of the academic year, Rebecca was already nineteen but Amy still eighteen. She was an August baby and usually the youngest in any year group. Frank Canning arrived in a van to collect all their belongings and he was lovely to Amy. He didn't hug and kiss her as he did Rebecca, but she felt welcomed and that he did in fact care about his daughter's friend.
As they unpacked, Amy noticed that Rebecca was getting nervous. "What's up Becca?"
"I haven't done that well this year. The school here in Frugal Valley is really strict and Dr Corby can use corporal punishment. Since then I've sort of slacked off a bit. When Daddy looks at all the reports and records he's going to spank me I'm sure."
As the students were all eighteen, parents didn't get any reports but the students did. A record of all their grades with a record of any missed sessions and punctuality. In addition, the personal tutor summarised the success or otherwise of the year. Amy knew she had done better than her friend mainly because she was far more able. Inwardly she was aware that her work and progress was, as it always had been, an underachievement. She was fascinated by Rebecca's situation: a father who didn't just take an interest but would punish her for not doing as well as she could have done.
Amy simply sat in when Rebecca was 'interviewed' by her father in his study. Her mother was also present but said very little. The elephant in the room, that no one even looked at, was the large hairbrush with the wooden back which sat in plain view on his desk. Frank Canning was never unkind or angry but read through the reports with a stern face. Rebecca stammered and stuttered excuses until finally her father drew it to a close.
"Becky, my love, you simply haven't done as well as you could have done, have you? I expect the distractions of university social life have caused that, but it isn't good enough... is it?"
"No Daddy."
"I should have been monitoring as the year went on. That is not a mistake I will make next year. Now you know what to do."
Rebecca didn't reply, just undid her shorts and pulled them down, letting them fall to her ankles. Her plain yellow knickers followed while Amy watched with fascination as her nineteen-year-old friend bared herself. She could scarcely believe her roommate was now standing in front of her father with her shorts and knickers around her ankles.
Amy had no intention of intervening or objecting so simply watched. Becca was helped to go across her father's lap in a way that Amy had heard about but never thought to witness. Becca reached down in a clearly familiar way and took a firm grip on the rung of the chair. Then, without another word being spoken, Frank began spanking. Amy had no reference for comparison but she could see that this was a hard spanking. The brush cracked down on the soft contours of her friend's bottom. Each time, the sound filled the room. Each time, the brush compressed the curve of the bottom, flattening it. Each time, Becca cried out, and each time as the hairbrush lifted before coming down again she saw the red mark spring up.
Soon it was hard to detect the red mark because red mark piled on red mark until Becca's bottom was one huge angry stain of red. Now subtly the darker reds and purples appeared, threatening to cover everywhere. Amy felt as if she had stopped breathing. Her friend screeched and wailed continuously as the hairbrush cracked down again and again but Amy had no inclination to intervene. Her friend was being legitimately punished by the mores of her community. The spanking lasted what seemed, even to Amy, a long time. When it was over, her parents were loving and kind. Her nose was blown, her tears dried and she was hugged and kissed.
Then Amy gaped in astonishment. Her friend was made to stand facing the wall, her hands on her head, her shorts and knickers around her ankles and her bottom a scarlet testimony to the spanking she'd been given. Amy found it hard to tear her eyes from that bottom. She was still in shock. The twenty-first century and she'd just witnessed a nineteen-year-old being spanked.
She finally turned her eyes back to Frank Canning. He was looking at her and clearly feeling awkward and guilty.
"Er... Amy, I haven't paid you any attention, and to be honest I'm not sure of my role here. Would you like me to see your reports and discuss them with you?"
Amy was shocked at how she felt inside. She knew a great many things about this situation: he would see immediately that she was underachieving. She wouldn't get spanked because this wasn't to do with her behaviour in his home, but had she been his daughter for real he would have disciplined her. She really longed to have a loving father to hold her to account. Knowing all this made her feel somewhat dizzy but she managed to keep a calm appearance.
"I would like that, Mr Canning. They're up in Becca's room. Shall I go and get them?"
She came down with more than the reports. She also brought her laptop. "I thought that you might want to see my school reports to put it all in context. All my reports were scanned in and stored in Dropbox."
Amy was impressed by her host. He didn't just skim through everything muttering platitudes but read every one of her school reports from infant school onwards. He read carefully sometimes skipping back to an earlier report and re-reading. Finally, he came to the reports on her first year at UNE. He read those extra carefully often dipping back to her school reports and making comparisons. When he finished, he looked at her, his face stern.
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