Something really embarrassing? You’ve been driving home from school in your beat-up old Japanese hatchback, you pushed a red light and a cop car appears out of nowhere and pulls you over. The grumpy old officer smells the joint you were smoking and pulls you out of your car and puts you in handcuffs. Can it get any worse? Of course it can. Your mom drives by just when you’re standing on the sidewalk. She makes a U-turn and stops behind the cop car.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” mom says. “Oh, hi’ Duke,” she adds as she recognizes the officer.

Just then my nose started itching and with my hands cuffed behind my back I couldn’t scratch it.

“Oh, afternoon, Brenda. How you doing?”

“Why is my daughter in handcuffs, Duke? What’s she done now?”

Now? Like I’m an arch criminal or something?

“I pulled her over for running a red light, Brenda. Then I smelled cannabis when I approached her car. I was just about to call for a female officer to search her.”

“No need, Duke,” mom says, and then she pats me down through my T-shirt and down through my jeans. She feels something in my back pocket and pulls out a small bag of weed which she then hands over to the officer.

I was about to say, “Mom, that cost me twenty bucks,” but decided that might not help my case any.

I still got an angry glare from my mom followed by, “Young lady, you are in so much trouble when I get you home!”

At least it amused the officer who chuckled loudly.

“So, what happens now, Duke?” mom asked.

“What I ought to do, Brenda, is drive her to the station and get her booked in.”

“Then what?”

“Her car gets towed, costs you $150 to get it back. We won’t hold her overnight, but she’ll have to appear before the judge in the morning. I’d guess a fine of $250, maybe $300.”

“You just wait until I get you home, young lady,” mom turned to me. “Your stupidity looks like costing your dad and me the better part of five hundred bucks! You ain’t going to be sitting down comfortably for a month!”

I felt my face going as red as my mom’s; hers through anger, mine through the embarrassment of the officer thinking I could be in for a spanking later. That said, I hadn’t been spanked for at least three years or more, but the look on mom’s face kind of suggested that could change.

“Tell you what, Brenda,” the officer said. “I haven’t written anything down yet. Blowing the red light didn’t affect anyone, and she only had a very small amount of cannabis. If you can promise me your Angie here is going to feel the full force of parental discipline, so to speak, then I could just leave you to deal with her. I appreciate it will be your husband and you footing the fine and the recovery charge for her car, and that kind of means you getting punished for your daughter’s wrongdoing.”

“Let me get this clear, Duke. You mean if Angie gets a good spanking at home, that’s the end of it? Is that what you’re saying, Duke? You’ll leave it to us to deal with her?”

“Excuse me!” I interrupted. “I am seventeen. Don’t I have any say in this?” I still don’t know why I did that.

“Really?” mom snapped. “You’d prefer to get arrested and taken to the police station? Does a criminal record appeal to you, all of a sudden?”

“Well no, I guess not.” I whimpered. A criminal record could prove awkward for university and stuff, future employment too, but getting my ass spanked at my age was just gross. To make it worse, the officer was looking at me like he was picturing in his mind me getting a spanking, and he was liking the idea.

“Your choice, young lady,” mom responded. “The officer arrests you and takes you in to the police station. Or, you get a hiding when you get home. Which is it going to be?”

“Getting arrested isn’t great,” the officer added. “As part of the processing, you’d be strip-searched and you’d spend at least some time locked in a cell.”

Did I really want some butch female officer watching me undress and then taking delight in checking me over. Getting a spanking also wasn’t on my to-do list, but at least it would be in the privacy of home.

“Okay, I’ll take the spanking,” I conceded.

I had to follow mom’s car all the way home, and she drove particularly carefully all the way, I guess as a lesson to me. We parked up and went inside our house.

“I need a coffee,” mom declared and I followed her into the kitchen.

I poured myself an orange juice while she switched the coffee machine on.

“How could you have been so stupid?” she asked.

I shrugged. The red light was careless, getting stopped was unfortunate. The officer just had to notice the smell of cannabis even though I had all the windows wide open. It was time to be conciliatory.

“I know. It was dumb of me, mom. I can’t undo what has happened. All I can do is take my punishment and learn from it.” I find moms like that sort of thing.

Straight away I noticed mom relax and the red-faced anger drained away.

“What are we going to do about the spanking?” I asked. I didn’t really want to know, but somehow I reckoned the sooner we got it done the sooner I could move on with my life.

“I think it might be better if your dad did it, honey.”

There! Now I’m ‘honey’ and not ‘young lady’. Mother/daughter relations were improving already.

“Okay.” That meant my butt was safe for another hour and a half at least, and dad would be cool when it came to my spanking. He’d never work himself up to any kind of anger level. “I’ll get my homework done up in my room. Okay?”

I lay on my bed and got stuck into my homework, but I was interrupted by my cellphone. It was Sara, my best friend.

“Hi.”

“Hi. You’re home? I saw you getting busted by the cops. I was afraid you’d be locked up in a cell, down at the station.”

“No, my mom talked him out of it.”

“Really? Can moms do that?”

“My mom knew the officer slightly. I think that helped.”

“And you got off? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“No consequence whatsoever?”

“Not really.”

“Come on, I know you and I know that tone of voice. What have you got to do? Sweep the streets for a month of Saturdays? Clean the police station from roof to basement?”

That’s the trouble with best friends, I find. They know you too well.

“If you must know, I had to agree to taking a spanking.”

“From the officer? Wow! When’s it going to happen? Are you selling tickets?”

“What? You mean you’d pay to see me being spanked?”

“Of course I would. I reckon we could sell a couple dozen tickets at least.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but it looks like my dad is going to do it. Here, in private.”

“You mean I can’t come and watch?”

“No, you can’t!” Just then I heard my dad’s car in the driveway so I quickly added, “Gotta go. Dad’s here.”

“Keep me posted,” was the last I heard Sara say.

I opened my bedroom door and I heard dad go into the kitchen, followed by my mom telling him what had been going on. I let them talk for a bit before going down and joining them. I kind of stood by the open kitchen door and waited for them to notice me rather than walk in boldly.

“Angie, what’s this I’ve been hearing?” dad said.

“Sorry, dad.” I added a sorrowful face. “I messed up.”

“You certainly did, young lady.”

Oh dear, back to the ‘young lady’. Not good.

“Like I said to mom, I got myself into this mess. All I can do now is apologize and take my punishment, I guess.”

“And there certainly will be a punishment, young lady. I hear you agreed to take a spanking. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir.” I very rarely call dad ‘sir’. “It was either that or get arrested and fined and stuff and, well, it would be you and mom paying for my mistakes. That didn’t seem fair.”

“Too right, young lady!”

Mom was keeping very quiet. I did the same, which gave dad a few moments to calm down.

“What do I need to do, sir?”

“You can forget the ‘sir’ bit, Angie. It doesn’t impress me. I’m going down to my wood shop in the basement and I’ll make up a paddle. We’ll have dinner and then you can go up to your room. I’ll join you and then we’ll get this done and sorted.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, dad.”

I figured it would be good to help mom prepare dinner while dad disappeared down into the basement. He’s set up a small woodworking shop down there where he makes bits of furniture and stuff.

When I’d done all I could helping mom prepare dinner, I went down into the basement to see how dad was getting on. He was working on a small piece of timber that looked around half an inch thick, marking out a shape like a school paddle with one end narrowed down into a handle.

“Sorry, dad,” I said again as I went and stood near to him.

“I’m sure you are,” he replied gently. “Sorry I have to do this.”

“Me too. What wood are you using?” See, I know how to wrap dad round my little finger. Showing an interest in what he was doing was good for father/daughter relations, especially in these circumstances.

“Maple. It’s a bit I had left over from making the kitchen cabinets.”

“Uh-huh.”

He finished marking the shape out and took the piece of wood over to an electric saw with a thin blade in a frame. I stood back a little as he carefully cut out the shape he’d drawn.

“That looks about right,” he said as he picked up what was to be my spanking paddle and examined it closely. “Now I just need to sand it.”

“Why take so much trouble?” I asked. “You’re only going to use it the once, hopefully.”

He laughed. “Yes, I hope so too. I’m sanding it so it doesn’t leave splinters in your butt!”

Even I had to smile. “Yes, I wouldn’t want that either.”

He used an electric sander to smooth down both sides and then worked around the edges until he seemed satisfied. It now looked like a paddle I’d seen in school, but in a paler shade of wood.

“Is that it?” I asked.

“Almost. I’m just going to give it a shine with some wax polish so it’s good and smooth.”

“We going to keep this?”

“Why not? Just in case we ever need it again.”

I ignored that remark. “You said we were going to do it after dinner. How exactly are we going to do it?”

“I’m thinking we could do it in your bedroom. Then you can stay there and either go to bed or at least have some time to yourself. Maybe reflect on the day’s events?”

“That sounds reasonable, I guess.”

“You’re sure taking this in your stride, honey. You’re getting a sore butt for real, you know.”

“I know. I mean, it is kind of the deal mom made with the officer so I didn’t get taken to court and stuff. Mom gave me the choice and I chose the spanking. How many am I getting?”

“I was thinking ten swats. How does that sound?”

I’d actually been imagining myself lying across dad’s lap while he spanked me multiple times with swats that stung, but not too badly. It seemed now like he was going to give me something more like they do in school, and that it would be way more than the gentle butt warming I’d been contemplating.

“I guess I have to accept that. Yes, I guess it’s fair.” I was hoping he’d sense it was more than I’d been expecting, but he didn’t get the hint.

“Okay, let’s have dinner and then we’ll put some closure to your day.”

Dinner was an unusually quiet affair. No one spoke much. I helped mom with the washing up while dad caught up with the news on TV. There was an unusually cold atmosphere when mom and I joined him.

“Your homework all done?” mom asked.

“Yes, ma’am. All done.” She looked at dad.

“Angie, I guess it’s time for you to go up to your room.”

Dad looked kind of awkward. My heart started beating away at my chest. I knew what that meant and so did he.

“Maybe you could change into your pajamas? dad suggested. “No underwear?”

I left the room and started slowly climbing the stairs. It was early to be changing into my pajamas. Part of my punishment? I never did wear underclothes under my pajamas. Then I got it. My thin cotton pajamas would provide protection for my modesty, but not for my butt. Dad was too nice a guy to spank me on my bare ass at least.

Inside my bedroom, my cellphone buzzed. Sara again.

“You sitting down comfortably?” she asked.

“Yes, why?”

“Then you haven’t been spanked yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“When’s it going to happen?”

“Soon, I guess. I’ve been sent to my room to change into pajamas.”

“Pajamas? At this time of day?”

“Durr! Pajamas are thinner than my jeans? Especially like around the butt area?”

“Oh, sorry. You’ll feel the spanking more. Why doesn’t he just yank down your jeans and panties and tan your bare butt?”

“I guess he feels I’m too grown-up for him to see my bare behind now.”

“Oh, okay. What are you getting? A hand spanking?”

“No, dad was down in his woodworking shop earlier making a paddle.”

“Really? All that effort for one spanking?”

“I guess he wants to do it right. We kind of made a deal with the cop.”

“Got you.”

“Look, I’ve got to get ready. I’ll call you later maybe.”

“Yes, do. Good luck!”

I really wanted to be ready for dad when he came up to my room, and I figured it wouldn’t be long now, so I quickly stripped off my jeans and T-shirt, and my bra and panties. I pulled a fresh pair of pajamas out of a drawer, a thin cotton jacket and short-legged pants. I gave the room a fast tidy up and sat on my bed. It wasn’t long before I heard dad’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

He tapped gently on my door.

“Come in.”

He entered cautiously. Perhaps he thought I might still be changing into my pajamas. I got off my bed. The paddle, which he was holding in his right hand, certainly caught my attention.

“How are we going to do this?” I asked as he looked around my bedroom. I hoped he was impressed with my tidying as well as my cooperation.

“Maybe you could pile a couple of pillows at the foot of your bed and go over that?”

“Oh, okay.” I guess I was a little disappointed. I’d kind of envisaged him sitting on the side of my bed and me lying across his lap.

I got the two pillows and piled them, one on top of the other, at the foot of my bed, then laid myself across them. I sank down into the soft pillows.

“No, that puts you down too low,” dad said. “I’d have to stoop down to hit your butt.”

I got off the pillows and looked around.

“Maybe if we pulled my small chest of drawers out into the center of the room?” I suggested. Maybe put just one pillow on top? That should bring me up high enough.”

“Let’s try it.”

The smaller of my two chests of drawers was filled with clothes and was easy enough to pull out. I put just one pillow on the top and leaned over. I had to stand on tiptoes to bend over it properly, but I sensed my butt would be easier for dad to spank.

“How does that look?” I asked.

“Fine. Is it comfortable enough for you?”

“I guess. I mean, the top edge isn’t pressing into my stomach or anything.”

“Okay. Shall we get to it?”

“Hold on.” I wriggled forward a little, feeling the thin cotton of my pajama shorts tighten around my butt, then I wrapped my fingers around the edges of the chest of drawers to get a good hold. “Okay. I’m ready.” Then I murmured, “At least as ready as I’ll ever be.”

I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. When dad swung his paddle and spanked me across the center of my butt, I gasped from the sudden infliction of pain.

“Yeeouch!! That hurt!”

Dad ignored me and swung the paddle again. I became conscious of the loud bang as it struck my butt, not to mention the intense agony. Another swing of the paddle hit my butt and I was feeling the effects even after the initial sharp pain had subsided. I was crying out at each spank, not something I intended to do. Dad was ignoring me and spanking in a slow rhythm, while I gripped the edges of the chest of drawers as tightly as I could.

I was surprised dad was spanking me so hard, even though I knew the deal we made with the cop meant I had to have my butt well busted. He was certainly taking the task seriously. My butt was soon like it was on fire, and I lost count of how many spanks I’d taken. It hurt like hell, but now I just wanted to get it over with. I think dad was tiring too, and then he stopped.

“That’s it, honey. That’s your ten swats.”

I immediately put one hand behind and rubbed my sore butt.

“Thanks, dad. I’m sure glad that’s over!”

“I guess it hurts? I mean, I know it does. I’m sorry, but I felt we had to do it properly.”

I slowly eased myself off the top of the chest of drawers, still massaging my butt.

“Yes, I knew that. I wasn’t really expecting anything else. I guess I forgot what a spanking feels like.”

“I hope that’s the last time we have to do anything like that.”

“Me too, dad.”

“I’ll leave you to sort yourself out. Come down anytime you’re ready.”

“Thanks, dad.”

Once dad had gone downstairs again, I pushed my pajama shorts down and checked my butt in the full-length mirror that was the door to my wardrobe. Pretty much my whole backside was red and sore, and there were two reddish-blue dark circles on the apex of each cheek. It looked as sore as it felt. I lay face-down on my bed and picked up my cellphone.

“Sara? Angie. It’s done.”

“You’ve been spanked? How did it go?”

“He sure hammered my ass, that’s for sure. But at least I’m not grounded like forever and my parents haven’t had to pay my fines and stuff. I guess it’s all worked out okay.”

“Say, how about I check your butt tomorrow? You know, check the damage.”

“No, Sara! Absolutely not!”

The End

© Carol Christensen 2026