Flowella stared fearfully down from her upstairs window as her Daddy strode purposefully up the gravel path to their stately home looking as if he'd swallowed a rather large wasp and was chewing on it with relish. She could literally see the steam coming out of his ear's. She stepped back suddenly when she saw him look towards her bedroom window. If look's could kill...
"Oh my Fluffy, he's seen the Roll's !!" she groaned as she gripped her pet poodle tighter whilst she patted the dog's head nervously. "Heaven help my big arse when Daddy goes apeshit !!!!"
"FLOOOOWELLA !!!!!" shouted Sir Harvey Hartley-Tompkinson, sixth Lord of Tompkinson Manor, up the ornate twisting staircase. His darling daughter had a lot of explaining to do. If she wasn't standing in front of him in 30 seconds flat there'd be hell to pay.
Suddenly there was a feminine voice behind him sounding concerned. "Why Harvey, whatever is the matter dear ?" It was Beatrice, his erstwhile wife who had appeared from the drawing-room carrying her sewing. Around her feet, bouncing up and down were her two hyper-active chihuahua's yapping away as usual. Many was the time he felt like taking down his Great Great Grandfather's blunderbus from above the fireplace and firing off a shot or two. He reached up and rubbed his temple in exasperation. It had been a VERY trying day. Women !! Egad, life would be a lot easier if he'd stayed in the Army, single. "H...Harvey ??" asked his wife again, concerned.
Her husband was turning a rather alarmingly shade of puse. "Matter, matter ?" he grunted, turning to stand at the bottom of the stairwell again. "Your precious pumpkin has just dented my pride and joy that's what. AND after I had told her she wasn't allow in it after the last hoo-hah with it showing off to her friends. Make no mistake this time Beatrice, there will be hell to pay. FLOWELLA !!!"
Mrs Hartley-Tompkinson winced. "Oh dearie, dearie, dearie me." she sighed. Her precious pumpkin was really in for it now for she recognised when that stiff-upper lipped husband of her's was on the warpath. During their courting and thirty years of marriage she'd often found herself on the receiving end of one of his strident rages. Rages that usually ended with her getting Betty, her maid, to apply some much needed salve to cool her rather fullsome bottom. Well, her darling would have to learn she couldn't keep disobeying her father. She'd just have to take the concequences.
At that precice moment her daughter appeared at the top of the stairs looking exceedingly worried as she had every right to be. Her father stood, feet apart, hand's on hips staring up at her. "Daddy, I can expla...." she started to say hurridly. But her father held up a stern hand.
"To the study girl, the study and be quick about it !!" he shouted as he strode towards his private room.
Flowella skampered down the stairs and ran to her mother. "Oh mummy, it wasn't my fault honestly. I just got those beastly gears mixed up and bumped the tree !!" she pleaded.
Her mother gave her a quick hug. "I know darling, I know." she sighed. "But when your daddy say's move...you had better be quick smart about it for you know what his temper is like. Now go on dear and get it over with or else he'll be in a grumpy mood all night."
Flowella merely sulked and pouted as she always did when she was in trouble. She hated when her daddy gave her a spanking because she had been naughty or done something he disapproved of. She was twenty one for goodness sake. She was too old to spank !! Though she knew her best friend Gertrude's daddy still used the belt in his household on occasion as Gertie would whisperingly and painfully testify.
As stubborness ran in the family, she stuck out her pert chin, swept back her long dark wavy hair and walked resignedly towards her father's study. "A spanking huh..." she muttered. "I can take a spanking.....no problem."
Flowella stood open mouthed, stunned. For there in his study, her daddy stood flexing "Mr Bamboo" between each hand, bending it into a menacing arc with him snorting at her over it like an over boiling steam engine.
Flowella had the un-nerving feeling that she'd gone a little bit too far this time. "D....d...der...daddy ?" she squeaked in alarm as she peered around the oak door.
"Come in and shut the door Flowella." he ordered as he stood in front of the fireplace.
Flowella, recognising that compliance was better than arguing the issue did as she was told. Her gaze on that awful cane all the while. What was her daddy doing with the cane ? He only used that on her mother !!
Surely, he wasn't going to use that on her........
Flowella stood round eyed and just a wee bit scared.
"AND if you ever, EVER go near the Roll's again you'll wish I'd never met your mother. Do you understand me Flowella ?" warned her daddy as he strode too and fro in front of her as she stood, head bowed, lip pouting like a little girl.
She nodded and sniffed a "Yes daddy. I do. I'm really, really sorry. I won't ever, ever do that again."
Harvey watched his daughter pretending to be sorry. He sighed to himself. It was always the same. She'd do something wrong, get caught, he'd spank her bottom as a punishment, she'd start to cry, she'd apologise and then she'd run to her mother for comfort. Then it would all happen again over some other matter. He feared his darling daughter was born to be bad. Well, not this time. This time he'd make dammed well sure she never forgot this punishment. After all she was 21 and it was time she learned what a "proper" thrashing felt like. Just as her mother did whenever she ended up in his study.
Hence the arrival of Mr Bamboo.
But first things first.
"Time for your punishment Flowella, a ticking off and the usual just won't do this time. Pull up your dress and remove your knicker's like always."
Flowella grasped the hem of her expensive dress. "Please daddy, you're not going to use that thing on me are you ?" she sniffed, feeling tears starting to well. "Mummy's bottom is a lot firmer than mine. Can't you just give me a spanking, please daddy, pleeeease !!" she wheedled as she sashayed out of her underwear. She well remembered listening to her mother's cries as her daddy caned her big bottom whilst she was upstairs lying in bed hiding under the covers when growing up.
Her daddy was having none of it. "Stop the back-chat you naughty girl. I've had enough of it I say. Why you're being punished is bloody obvious, how you're punished is for me to know and you to bloody well find out. " he muttered as he pulled a chair into the centre of the room.
In actual fact, he was going to spank her bottom...to begin with anyway. He sat ram-rod straight and ordered her over. "Since you seem keen on getting your bottom spanked then I shall take great pleasure in obliging you. Get over here right now and bend over my lap."
Flowella didn't know whether to be relieved or afraid. She'd had many, many spankings off her daddy over the year's and knew how sore and painful they could be. But anything, anything, would be more preferable than taking a beating from that awful Mr Bamboo !!
Once over his lap, she crossed her ankle's, squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as usual. The first spank from her daddy was always the worst for his first spank was just as hard as his last. Not for her daddy was a slow build up. Straight down to business. "Start as you mean to go on." would be his motto. At least her bottom knew what to expect these days, goodness know's it had been spanked enough over the year's.
That thought had just passed when she felt her daddy's hand leave her right cheek and hover somewhere above. "Ohhhhh daddy." she squeaked. "You know how much I hate to be spanked !!!"
There was a breath of wind, then his palm landed with an ear-splitting crack that had Flowella gasping and grasping as she yelped a plaintive "Noooooooooo OUCH OOOOO DADDY !!" Cursing colourfully in her head, she grunted as the pain rebounded from tip to toe and muttered as a bee's sting suffused her bottom terribly. She could well imagine the size of his handprint appearing on her right cheek. "A...alright, right one first...left one next !!"
Five minutes later, a very red bottomed young lady scrambled to her feet and began hopping around the room like a demented frog as she blubbered like a baby. "OHHHHHHH DAAAAAAAADDEE !!" she cried. "Why do you have to spank me so hard ?!!!"
Her father sat watching his daughter's histrionic's as she bent nearly double with her hand's thrust under her dress trying to ease the sting from her rear-end. She was just like her mother he mused. Whenever he caned his beloved, she had the exact same mannerism's and reaction's. Always ending with an "Oh you....you." pout. He tried hard to hide his smile.
"Because you deserve it Flowella." he stated flatly. "Now, you'd better remove the rest of your thing's because they'll only get in the way when I cane you."
Flowella forgot about her sore bum in a flash.
Harvey stood up and removed his jacket as his daughter stood staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "Hurry up darling, I haven't got all day you know. Chop..chop."
Flowella didn't move an inch.
Picking up his swishy cane, he therwicked it experimentally through the air. "I said, remove your dress. You can bend over the drawing desk. I think that will leave your bottom at quite a nice height for me to get a good swing at."
Still she didn't move.
"Are you listening girl ?" he frowned. "Whatever is the matter ?"
Flowella tried to speak but it only came out as an aghast gasp, until eventually she blurted, "U..undressed ? But...but I can't !!"
He flexed his bicep. "Can't ?" he said dismissively. "There's no such word as can't. Do as you're told or I'll double what I originally intended to give you. Now undress Flowella.....or else."
It was the "Or else..." that did it.
Those were the magic word's she knew so well and the words that she feared most. No doubt he thought a little naked humiliation would make all the difference this time. He was right. Shaking with embarrassment, she fumbled and stumbled out of her dress. Blushing all over, she folded it neatly and put it on a nearby chair then turned with everything covering everything indecent and waited for her daddy to tell her what he wanted her to do next.
Her father nodded. Better, much better. "Good girl. Now bend over this desk and we shall make a start shall we ?" he smiled. Flowella just frowned and walked on shaky legs to in front of the desk. He was standing at her left side and gave her still red bottom a nippy tap.
"Gee up. Over and stay over." he told her. "You'd better grasp the cross beam for support dear. Like your mother does when she's up for a dose of Mr Bamboo. Now, the rule's are that you are under no circumstance's allowed to get up until your punishment is over. Do you understand Flowella ?"
Her face hidden by her long hair, Flowella muttered a "Yes daddy." Her heart sounded like it was in her head. She felt faint and queazy. This was horrid !! How on earth did her mother put up with it ?!! Before she could figure out a reasonable and plausable answer, she jumped with fright when she felt "Mr Bamboo" make his introduction across her quivering derriere.
Her father snorted, watching her reaction to his sizing-up tap. If she jumped at that, heaven know's how high she would jump when he gave her a good first stroke. Flowella was about to discover that like his spanking technique, her father's caning lesson was of a similiar ilk. The first would be swished as good, hard and true as the sixth, the last.
Her first ever lash of the cane landed but didn't register for a split second. In that second, the time around her bottom stopped. She heard the peculiar arcful "therwick" the cane made as it cut through the air behind her. She felt the odd sensation of both her buttock's contracting alarmingly around the wood as it sank into her rosy flesh. As the second was about to pass, she felt it's shockwave ripple over her bottom and back along the instrument of her punishment. "Oh..." she thought, surprised for a brief moment. "This isn't so bad........."
That second of anticipation ended of course as all second's do leaving only the "OOOOOWWWAAAAAAAGGGGGH!!!!!" eventually in its painful wake. Flowella shrieked but thankfully remembered to keep hold of the wooden beam as the true bite of the rattan said hello to her nether-region's. Mr Bamboo had left his calling card.
Even though this was his daughter's first taste of the cane, her father didn't spare the rod. He felt to do so would make the lesson she was painfully learning not one she would benefit from.
The subsequent strokes he swathed across his darling daughter's rear carbunkle were true and hard as witnessed by the purple mass of blossoming bruises and the angry red slashes of fiery welt's that the cane had cut deep then raised across both her full cheeks.
His intention was to give her six and it was no small matter of pride that his daughter, despite great temptation, had managed somehow to remain bent over his desk.
His daughter was, as to be expected, crying and sobbing copiously. After stroke number four, she'd stopped pleading and begging and had seemed to accept he would continue punishing her until he was satisfied.
"Last one Flowella. You've been a brave girl bearing up to it as you have. Remember to stay down until I give you leave to rise...or else." Harvey stepped back and measured the rod for the last stroke across her behind. Finding an unmarked area was a little difficult but eventually he was satisfied he was ready. "Grit your teeth darling."
Flowella shrieked even before her last cane stroke landed and continued to shriek long and hard afterwards.
Harvey Hartley-Tompkinson entered the drawing room to see his wife sewing, though not with the same due deliberation as was usual. In such thing's she was a perfectionist but as was to be expected, after this evening's event's, her mind had no doubt been elsewhere. He walked over to where she was sitting and gave her a peck on the cheek before sitting down in his leather chair and picking up his copy of the day's Time's to read how his stock's and share's were doing.
"All done dear ?" she asked brightly. He noticed her colour was high as he peeked over the top of the paper.
"All done dearest." he smiled. "Be a trooper, I've left Flowella in the study to recover her composure. It might be a good idea if you can go and comfort her. It would be wise to also show her what to do about her welt's seeing as you've had plenty of experience in such matters." he opined.
Beatrice put aside her stitching, brushed down her skirt and got to her feet. "Of course dear, you're so right. A good dollop of cold cream will be just what she needs at this moment. I shan't be long." she agreed as she walked to the door.
"Beatrice...." said her husband suddenly, his nose still in the newspaper.
"Yes dearest ?" she replied innocently.
"Whilst you're there, you had better put the cane in some vinegar. It's your turn later on when we retire remember..."
Like her daughter, Beatrice felt suddenly faint. In all the excitement she'd plumb forgot about him discovering she had over indulged in his Port whilst dining with friends the other day. Oh dear, it really was true what they say.....like mother like daughter !!