Stuck At Home

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2020 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

Stuck At Home

The apartment was microscopic. Dallas Cooper barely lived there, since he traveled 250 days a year for his job. He was an international IT consultant and usually slept in plush hotels in London, Tokyo, Paris, Rome, or Sydney. The apartment was just a crashpad for when he was back in New York.

Usually he was only there for one night, after a long flight, and then he'd go to his parents' place upstate, where his daughter lived. He'd visit for a day or two and then be off on the next gig.

Then COVID-19 changed everything. Overnight, all travel was banned and he wasn't allowed to leave his tiny apartment. Jenny had to move in with him since her elderly grandparents were high-risk for the virus.

For the first week, the teen was ecstatic. No school and endless time with Dad? Awesome! But soon the close quarters became stifling.

Jenny was doing remote learning, which wasn't as much fun as it sounded. Her dad was also working remotely, which meant he was always hogging the bandwidth and up all hours, since so many of his clients were in other time zones on the other side of the planet.

Her dad graciously gave up his bedroom for her and took the couch, so she could close the door against his constant conference calls, but the room was barely bigger than the bed. She was used to her grandparents' spacious six-bedroom farmhouse and seven acres of land to roam and explore. Being cooped up like chickens was driving her batty.

Dallas wasn't in a much better mood. He realized he barely knew his daughter. She'd been growing up without him and things he thought he knew -- her favorite foods, colors, music -- had all changed.

"Dad, I haven't liked Hello Kitty since I was nine!" she whined when he brought her a present from Japan. "Why couldn't you bring me some cool manga?"

Then she had to explain to him what manga was -- Japanese comics -- a lesson delivered with plenty of eye rolls and exasperated groans and dramatic sighs at his cluelessness.

That was the inauspicious beginning to their new relationship. After a week of confinement, the two were barely on speaking terms. It was all Dallas could do not to strangle the arrogant, snarky little brat that had taken over his daughter's body.

He had to remind himself that she was 14 now, growing into a young woman, and that he had been gone for most of her life. He'd always told himself that it was a sacrifice he'd made for her; he didn't want to be traveling all the time. It was for work, to give her a good life. After a week at home, however, he wasn't so sure.

He loved the adventure of the road. He thrived on the excitement of airplane flights, tight deadlines, and comfortable hotels. He loved seeing the world, visiting new places, exotic foods. Now he was stuck at home trying to cook, a completely different adventure with a usually miserable outcome.

He'd been only 30 when he'd started this job. His beloved wife had passed away leaving him with a little girl he didn't know what to do with. His parents had taken on that burden, which had made it easy for him to escape via work. Had that been what he'd been doing -- escaping?

Dallas felt terrible. He realized he'd always felt a bit guilty. He'd tried to make it up to Jenny by showering her with gifts and giving her plenty of money for whatever she wanted. She'd always had top-of-the-line computers, cell phones, and game consoles. He wasn't good at buying girl clothes, but her allowance gave her plenty to buy whatever she needed. She was, he concluded, a spoiled, entitled brat.

But he couldn't be mad at her. It was entirely his fault. He'd created this monster. Three or four times a day he was on the phone with his parents, asking what to do. Their answer was typically old-fashioned: "The girl needs discipline. Put her over your knee and spank her bare bottom!"

Dallas groaned and shook his head. There was no way he could do that. Jenny would hate him forever, even more than he hated himself. But as the cramped days wore on -- incredibly slowly -- the idea became more appealing.

One day, after his daughter swore at him when he complained of her leaving dirty clothes and used dishes all over and never putting anything away, he threatened to spank her. He hadn't known he was going to say that -- it just came out in the heat of the moment.

"If your attitude doesn't change, young lady, I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you!" he roared.

She laughed at him. Not a mocking laugh or something full of bravado, but a giggle. A genuine giggle. As in the idea of him spanking her was so absurd she couldn't do anything but sneer.

That infuriated him. He almost slapped her. He wanted to storm off, to slam a door, to retreat to some privacy to regain his composure, but there was nowhere to go in 600 square feet. In desperation he resorted to the bathroom, which was a terrible idea. Not only was it dreadfully small, but it was covered with girly feminine products and damp towels on the floor. Seeing the mess only enraged him further.

When he emerged, Jenny was sprawled on the sofa amidst empty soda cans, half-eaten take-out containers, candy bar wrappers, and chip bags. She was watching Netflix on the modest 32\" wall-mounted TV and getting her greasy hands all over the remote. She hadn't cleaned up a single thing since he'd segregated himself; she'd actually made a bigger mess!

Dallas was used to everything being neat and tidy. The hotels he stayed at were always immaculate and he never lived anywhere long enough to create clutter. In his work he was precise and technical, always organized. He couldn't abide living in a teenager's pigsty.

"That's it!" he cried. He marched over to Jenny and extracted the remote from her startled hands. She stared at him, baffled. He intended to turn off the action movie she was watching, but missed the button in his haste and didn't take time to fix it.

Instead he scooped her up and sat himself on the sofa, turning her over his lap as he did so. By then she was starting to figure out what was going on -- this was not an unfamiliar position to her, though usually it was over Grandma's or Grandpa's lap -- and she began to struggle.

But Dallas was a big man at nearly six feet. Though a geek and soft, he worked out fairly regularly at hotel gyms and did a lot of walking. Jenny, in contrast, was a petite girl half his weight. It was no contest. His big hand came down on the back of her jean shorts with a bang that happened to correspond precisely with a gunshot on the TV. The girl yelped, thinking she had been shot.

The sound was music to the worn out father's ears. He spanked the bottom before him again and then again. Jenny gasped and wiggled. She felt no real pain. Her father's hand through her shorts was nothing compared to Grandma's hairbrush. But she was shocked that her beloved dad would do this to her. He'd always been a softie, someone she could manipulate into doing whatever she wanted. Now he was spanking her, really spanking her! She couldn't believe it.

Her father was left-handed, which felt strange to Jenny, as her grandparents were both righties. Everything felt backwards. Her father was stronger than she expected, and she grunted at every slap. Her bottom started to tingle.

Meanwhile, Dallas was feeling better. His anger was ebbing as he spent it slapping his daughter's bottom. He also was aware from her groans that he wasn't truly hurting her. She was feeling something -- he could feel her tension and jerking -- but it wasn't like this spanking was abusing her. This relaxed the part of him that feared hurting her and he felt more comfortable applying more force with his smacks.

"Ooh, Daddy, no!" Jenny cried, wiggling wormlike across his lap. His right arm went across her back and pinned her in place while his left beat a tattoo upon her ass. She began to yelp and kick, but she wasn't crying, just pissed.

He kept up the spanking. Though he'd never spanked anyone before, he'd grown up with such discipline and knew from being on the receiving end how it worked. He could tell that Jenny wasn't the least bit repentant, just annoyed at him.

"Daddy, please stop! I've learned my lesson," she squealed, but there was no panic in her voice that told him this was true. She was acting, the brat, trying to manipulate him into stopping.

With real resolve, Dallas suddenly changed his tactics. He rolled Jenny off his lap and onto her feet. She sighed with relief and glared at him.

"That was so unfair, Daddy! You didn't have to be so mean!" Then she gasped. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Dallas had her shorts unbuttoned before she knew what was going on. Her cry had been when the denim slipped down her thighs. If she'd run immediately, she might have delayed things, but she wasted time being shocked. By the time she recovered, she was face down across his lap again, this time with only skimpy white panties protecting her pert little rump.

The big male hand came down again, one cheek and then the other, and Jenny began to really howl now. It was still more fear and outrage than pain, but she was feeling a hot sting developing, for the panties were too thin to protect her.

After a few dozen slaps on her panties, Dallas grabbed the waistband and pulled down. "Nooo!" shouted Jenny, real fear in her voice. He ignored her. The underpants dipped below the base of her butt revealing two chubby orbs, smooth as a mannequin's sculptured buns. The pale flesh was already blushing, but not a proper "well-spanked" red.

Dallas went to work. The slaps were loud now, a higher-pitch and clearly on bare skin. Almost instantly Jenny screeched and fought with renewed vigor, but he held her still and spanked her soundly. She yelled and began to beg, pleading for mercy. This time her tone had a genuineness to it that nearly made him relent, but he still wanted some tears.

They came after the next dozen spanks. Jenny, exhausted and overwhelmed, began to cry. Once the first tear dropped, the dam broke and the rest flooded out. She wept. Dallas didn't let this stop him, remembering how his mother had always said tears were the "halfway" point.

He was too tender to really make that halfway, stopping after another few dozen smacks, but it was still enough to bring honesty out of the sobbing daughter.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed. "I'm really, really sorry! I'll clean up. I will, Daddy, please!"

Eventually he believed her and relented, his arm grinding to a halt. In front of him a pair of pink-red buttocks writhed, the urgent gyrations slowing into occasional jerks and shudders.

"All right, baby," he whispered. The TV noise was distracting, so he muted it. The silence in the room was loud. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

"You're going to get up and clean up as promised?"

"Yes, Daddy, I will."

"Okay. Now don't disappoint me, or you'll go right back over my knee."

Jenny gasped, wiped her eyes with her arm, and hastily got up, yanking her panties and shorts up over her bottom. Then, sniffling, she began organizing the trash and taking stuff to the bin under the sink and the recycling bag in the corner. When things got full, she took everything downstairs to the dumper.

When she came back, her father was at his small desk on his computer, the headphones on his head telling her he was on a call. She said nothing and began rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher. Her bottom tingled as she worked.

It was pleasant, nothing like the hot miserable blistered feeling after one of her grandparents' spankings. She knew she'd gotten off easy and as shocked as she was by her father's actions, the spanking had been deserved. Her respect for him grew.

She decided to make lunch as a way of apology, and though her grilled cheese sandwiches were nothing like the gourmet treats Grandma made, they weren't bad. She took one to her father and brought it to him at the computer.

He frowned, for he didn't approve of eating near electronics, so she moved it to the coffee table. She sat down next to his plate with her own and ate. After a moment, he came over.

Dallas was feeling bad. He wanted to apologize for spanking her, but that didn't seem appropriate. She had deserved it. Even she could see that, couldn't she? Besides, she didn't look upset, and she had spent the morning cleaning up the place, a sign that the spanking had worked. He decided not to mention it and instead told her how good her sandwich was.

"Hmm, good. Delicious. You did a great job, honey. You didn't burn them the way I usually do."

"We need to get some other kinds of cheese," she said. "Grandma uses several kinds which she makes it."

"Put it on the grocery list."

"I already did!" She grinned and he laughed.

The rest of the day was remarkably pleasant. Jenny was nicer and did her homework without being nagged. Dallas even took some time off work to watch some TV with her snuggled against him on the little sofa, and then he splurged for dinner by ordering her favorite Chinese delivery.

The effectiveness of that spanking lasted nearly 48 hours. The next day was okay, but the following morning Jenny wandered around in pajamas, hair unkempt, complained about cereal for breakfast, complained about wanting to go outside, and complained about Dallas always working.

"Who do you think pays for this apartment?" he said. "It ain't cheap. I've got to work."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "An apartment you never even use. It takes a pandemic to keep you here!"

"Jenny, go shower and get dressed. And get all your dirty clothes together. It's time we do laundry."

The girl groaned and acted as though he'd instructed her to build a working spaceship out of toothpicks. Though she obeyed about the laundry, slowly, her constant whining about it grated on him and finally he said, "Do you need another spanking?"

She stopped and glared at him. "So that's how it is? If I don't jump when you yell you'll just beat me?"

"No, I will spank you. That's completely different and you know it."

Jenny did the eye roll thing again and Dallas almost snapped. He controlled himself, barely, and told her to contact the laundry service.

"I need to make a call, so please be quiet," he added, and went back to his computer.

When his back was turned, she stuck out her tongue at him, not realizing that he saw this clearly in the reflection on the window. He said nothing, however, controlling his temper. He didn't want to spank her out of anger.

After lunch, he had to remind her twice to do her schoolwork, and each time she responded more grouchily. At one point she pushed it away decrying the "uselessness" of math and turned on the TV. Dallas was chatting with a client London and waved at her to mute the noise, which she did so reluctantly with a generous scowl.

It was the last straw. Dallas calmly finished his call, which took about 20 minutes, and then he took off the headset. Jenny still hadn't dressed and was in her pajamas. He guided her to her feet. Her eyes widened when she saw the look on his face.

"Daddy? What is it? Hey, I called the laundry service like you said. They should be here any minute!"

"Too little, too late. Your attitude all day has been horrible. It's time for a reminder to behave."

Jenny squealed as he grabbed her, but the pajama bottoms had no resistance to a strong male hand. They came down leaving a pale bare bottom on show. Dallas pulled his daughter across his lap and began to spank. As his palm connected with her cheeky little butt with a sharp splat she yelped and began to beg for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, Daddy! I know I should have gotten dressed like you said and done my homework and not bothered you while you were working. I'm sorry, please don't spank me!"

He was pleased she knew what she'd done wrong -- but also concerned that she knew it so well. Clearly she hadn't been screwing up by accident. It had been deliberate defiance. She was testing him!

So Dallas ignored his daughter's pleas and spanked her soundly. At 14, she was filling out, and though still tiny, her butt had plenty of padding. He wasn't worried about hurting her and after the effectiveness of the last spanking, he was convinced that such punishment wasn't harmful.

His hand rose and fell, each whack tingling his hand but really lighting up Jenny's butt. The cheeks bounced and jiggled as she squirmed and soon she was gasping and moaning. Then tears came soon after, about the time her ass changed from pink to decidedly red. Dallas spanked on, working his palm over every inch and even the tops of her thighs. She squeaked in alarm and cried out for him to stop, but he knew that trick, and continued swatting her buns until they were blazing hot and glowing a red crimson.

When he stopped the silence was deafening, Jenny's sobs slowly fading into sniffles. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered, and it sounded genuine.

Dallas patted her bottom and helped her up. He was admiring the red glow of her pert butt, which reminded him of those of those red balls they used in gym class when he was in school, though obviously his daughter's buns were much smaller, and wondering if he should have her stand in the corner for a time, when the doorbell buzzed.

Jenny's face went pale. "It's the laundry service!" she gasped. She yanked up her pajama bottoms, but seemed embarrassed to be seen in them. Dallas took pity and sent her into her bedroom, while he checked the door and helped the laundry guy take the bags.

When he was gone, she peeked from behind the door. "Do you think he heard?" she whispered, her face pink.

Dallas laughed. "Probably. You were making enough noise!"

"That's not funny. I'm too old to be spanked. It's for little kids!"

"Seems to me it's just as effective on big girls like you. Now, are you going to shower and get dressed?"

He let his voice dwindle to imply potential consequences and Jenny gulped and nodded, rushing to obey. He heard the shower running a few minutes later and smiled. Maybe his mom was right. This spanking thing sure made a difference!

The next few days went pretty well. Dallas only had to scold or remind Jenny a few times and if she didn't obey right away, he just gave her a look which said, "Do I need to spank you?" and she quickly did as asked.

Still, the place was just too small for no conflict, and by the weekend Dallas had to spank his daughter again. This time he made it more formal, announcing that she'd get it that evening, since he was in the middle of dealing with a client. Jenny pouted, but he noticed she was quiet and obedient.

That night he instructed her to change into her pajamas with nothing on underneath. Then he sat on the sofa, called her over, helped her bottoms down, and spanked her soundly.

It was a much calmer, more rational spanking than the previous ones, which had been more combative. He attributed this to him catching Jenny by surprise with his new discipline direction, and her initial reluctance to cooperate. This time she was somber, but didn't argue or protest, seemingly resigned to her fate.

As a result, he didn't spank her quite as harshly. He worked her bottom until her cheeks glowed a bright pink and she'd shed a few genuine tears of remorse, and then he let her up and cuddled with her. She hugged him and apologized and didn't seem the least bit upset at her punishment.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, wondering if he'd gone too easy.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I was a brat. You were totally right to spank me. I deserved it."

"Does that mean I have the right to spank you any time you act like a brat in the future?"

He'd been just teasing, but she pondered the question and answered honestly. "Yes. I shouldn't be a brat and if I am, you have my permission to spank me for it."

Dallas was touched by this gesture, even if it wouldn't stick when it came time to go over his lap, and even though he didn't need her permission to spank her. If she'd cooperate, though, that would make things much easier.

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said.

She nodded and put a hand between her little breasts and said, "I swear it. If I'm a brat, you can spank me." She hesitated, then added, "You can spank me a bit harder than you did just now. Brats need harder spankings."

"Harder? Really?"

Jenny nodded solemnly. "Yes. I can take it. You're just using your hand, not a hairbrush like Grandma."

"Oh? Shall I find a hairbrush?"

"What? Oh no, I didn't mean that!"

Her worried tone made him laugh and she realized he was teasing her. "Your hand hurts plenty," she said.

"Yes, it does," he said, holding up his palm and wiggling the fingers as though they were sore.

It took a second, but Jenny got the change in meaning and her eyes went wide. "Is your hand hurting?" she said, concerned.

"It's not bad."

"I didn't think about that. Maybe... maybe you should use a hairbrush."

"No, I might spank you too hard. If I just use my hand, I won't, because it'll hurt me, too."

"But that's not fair. I'm the bad one, not you."

She leaned her head against his chest and hugged him. It made him want to cry. He looked away, blinking back moisture.

"You're not bad, honey. You're the best daughter a man could want."

"Do you mean that?"

"Absolutely. I'm so sorry I haven't been around to watch you grow up. I've missed so much."

"Me, too. A girl needs her daddy," Jenny said. "I'm almost glad this virus thing happened. I mean, not for all the people getting sick and the trouble it's causing the world, but at least you get to be home and we get to be together."

"I agree. And it's got me thinking."

"What about?"

"Well, you know how I'm doing all my work remotely? Why can't I do that in the future, after all this is over?"

"You mean you wouldn't travel all the time?"

"Just occasionally. There are a few situations were in-person consults are required, but I am considering telling my bosses and my clients that I will do most of my work remotely from now on. Would you like that?"

"Oh Daddy, I'd love that!"

Dallas beamed at the joy in Jenny's voice and felt like he'd given her the best present ever. That night was a wonderful time. Jenny was happy and made popcorn and they watched a movie. He was was happy, too, and realized how much he'd missed this kind of closeness with his daughter. He vowed that things were definitely going to be different after this pandemic.

Naturally, Jenny's improved behavior didn't last. She overslept Monday morning and when he told her to get up, she gave him the finger. He was stunned and a bit angry. She claimed she hadn't meant it, that she was still half-asleep, but that didn't prevent him from dragging her into the living room for a spanking.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she panted. "I don't know what came over me." Then she obediently pushed her pajama bottoms to her knees and laid herself across his lap. "Go ahead, spank me very hard. I deserve it."

Dallas did spank her. It was a good long one, at least five minutes of steady smacking, but it wasn't too harsh and it was more the build-up of sting that hurt more than the hardness of particular slaps.

Jenny kissed him on the cheek afterward, even before she went to pull up her pants. She hugged him, apologized, and said he was right to spank her. It was like she was comforting him more than the other way around.

"Go stand in the corner," Dallas said. "Hands on your head, and leave those pants down. Ten minutes."

For a moment Jenny hesitated, staring at him in astonishment. Then she seemed to conclude this was an appropriate extension to her spanking and she nodded. She waddled to the corner, pajamas around her ankles, and got into position. She put her hands on her head. Her bare bottom, shiny and red, stuck out impudently, though she didn't seem to be doing anything to cause that. It was just how her bottom was shaped, like a perfect bubble.

Dallas went back to finishing breakfast. He'd been making pancakes as a treat when Jenny had refused to get up, so now he tossed out the rock-hard and burnt ones from earlier and started with fresh. He was using a mix, so as long as he cooked them right, he couldn't go wrong.

"Pancakes?" Jenny said excitedly when she was released from her corner time. "Ooh, yummy!" She attacked them eagerly like a little girl, not a mature teenager, though her appetite was more of the latter.

Things went swimmingly after that. Dallas had to spank her a few more times during the week, but it wasn't until the weekend that he realized how natural it felt. It was almost... fun? No, that wasn't the right word. Satisfying? Appropriate? Destiny?

He couldn't put his finger on it. Bizarrely, he thought of the word peaceful, which made no sense, but it was not much worse than any of the others. It was strange. Life was more peaceful.

Jenny accepted and took her spankings obediently, not protesting other than the occasional sigh or rueful grin, and he didn't make them too hard. They were just reminders, a bit of sting to adjust her attitude. She didn't need beatings, just guidance. Her bottom was sensitive and he didn't have to blister it with a paddle, just warm it with his hand.

Afterward, she was always apologetic, rueful, and contrite. She frequently told him she was glad he'd spanked her and that it helped her behave.

One evening the following week she came to him. "You need to spank me," she said firmly.

"Excuse me?"

"I promised myself I'd finish my science report today. But I kept doing other things and I didn't finish."

"Why?"

"Lazy, I guess. I don't know. I just know I need to be punished."

"So you want me to spank you?"

"Yes. I deserve it. And I promised myself if I didn't finish the paper, I'd have to ask you for a spanking. So now I need you to give me one. A long hard one!"

Dallas considered this. It sounded serious. Perhaps Jenny needed a harsher punishment. "Should I use a hairbrush?"

This rocked her for a second, but then she nodded. "Yes, that's a good idea. I'll see if I can find one."

Unfortunately, the only one she could find was lightweight plastic, so she came up with the next best thing: a flat silicon spatula from the kitchen. She tested it on her hand, then on her bottom, pulling her pajamas down and giving her butt a swat. It stung and she brought it to her father.

"Use this. It really stings."

So it proved. Dallas took his daughter over his lap and warmed her bottom with his hand, then when she was nice a pink, began with the spatula. The smacks were sharp and loud and stung ferociously. Jenny squealed and gasped and began to cry.

When her dad paused, however, she looked back at him and said firmly, "No, don't stop. Keep going, hard, just like that. I deserve it. I have to learn to stop putting off unpleasant tasks and do my homework."

So he continued, discovering that the spatula did save his hand and the rubbery smacks were most satisfying without doing Jenny's bottom any harm other than turning the flesh a delicious strawberry red.

Afterward, Jenny did a spank dance, jumping about and rubbing her butt furiously. She was reluctant when told to stand in the corner with her hands away from her bottom, but she did it. She squirmed the whole time, her modest hips swaying and her rump twitching at the still-hot tingle across her cute buns.

Dallas was pleased and decided to retire the spatula from kitchen duties (after its contact with Jenny's butt he wasn't too keen on using it for meal prep even after it had been washed) and keep it exclusively as a spanking tool. When he told Jenny this, she not upset and seemed pleased.

"But only for when I've been extra-bad," she said. "For regular spankings, you'll just use your hand, right?"

"Yes, that sounds fair."

And so the "new normal" continued, with work from home, groceries and food delivered, occasional trips outside for walks away from people, and always the spankings. Jenny was ornery enough to need at least one every other day, it seemed, usually mild, but occasionally serious enough to require the spatula.

The sight of Jenny's red bottom in the corner of the kitchen was a daily thing, soon so regular neither commented upon it. Dallas had to be careful with his video chats so that his camera didn't pick up his daughter's bare bottom in the background.

Jenny's mood was positive and it was often she who suggested a spanking before Dallas could. She'd whine about something, realize her mistake, and come ask him for a spanking because she was "being a brat."

At first he was hesitant, for it seemed like a lot of spankings, but they didn't seem to hurt Jenny, not in any serious way, and a hot stingy bottom calmed her down and helped her focus. Maybe it was just a distraction from the lockdown, but whatever the reasoning, it helped, so he always obliged.

Once during the night when he was having trouble sleeping it occurred to him that in a way he was making up for all of the spankings he hadn't given his daughter growing up. If he'd been home and a real dad he'd have probably spanked her hundreds of times in the past ten years, so this was just catch up. That was a weird idea, but it made him more comfortable spanking Jenny so often.

Some days he even spanked her more than once. There was even a day when she got a spanking before breakfast, another in the afternoon, and two more that night. The supper one was a paddling with the spatula for not finishing her homework, but the bedtime one was a quickie, just a little spanking to send her to bed hot and tingly and encourage her not start off the next day on the wrong foot.

Dallas was surprised that Jenny didn't mind these spankings. When he asked her about it, she just shrugged. "Did you get spanked this much at Grandma and Grandpa's?" he asked.

"Hell no!" she said with horror. "Not the way they spank. I'd have ended up in the hospital!"

"So the problem is that my spankings aren't hard enough?"

"It's not a problem, Dad. So you spank me more often, but less hard. That's good. I don't mind. I'd rather have it that way."

"You don't mind because I'm clearly not spanking you hard enough. It's almost like you like it!"

Jenny looked at him, her big eyes round and serious. She was right at that age between young and adult, her expression somehow both mature and childish.

"Is that bad, Dad? The truth is... I do like it. Not the pain, but I like you. I like that it's you punishing me. It makes you seem like a real dad."

Dallas stared at her. His voice was hoarse with emotion. "I guess I never was your real dad before all this, huh?"

"Sometimes, but you never disciplined me before. You gave me presents and told me I was pretty and grown up and that stuff, but you never punished me. Real dads have to punish. It's part of their job.

"I had Grandpa and Grandma to do that, but it's not the same thing. They're family and they're great and I love them, but they're not my dad. I love it that you're willing to spank me now. I suppose I have been a bit bratty on purpose just so you'd spank me. I was testing you at first, but then you kept spanking me and I decided that was good, that I liked it, that I deserved it. It makes me feel close to you."

She threw her arms around him and he was crying as he hugged her back. "Go ahead and spank me now," she said. "I was rude and said things I should have."

"No, you didn't. Everything you said was right."

"I still shouldn't have said that about you not being a real dad. That was mean."

"It's true."

"Doesn't matter. I shouldn't have said it. I deserve a spanking. Please?"

She was bare and over his lap before he could argue, and even though he could hardly see her butt through his tears, he spanked her as she wanted. Jenny smiled even as her butt rocked and her skin turned pink.

"Harder, Daddy," she begged. "Show me that you love me!"

So Dallas did. He used to spatula and turned her cheeks fire engine red, proving how much he loved his one and only. They were both crying afterward as she curled up in his arms.

"I love you, Daddy," she said.

"I love you, Jenny."

"I know. My butt is on fire!" she said happily.

They stayed like that for a long time. It was bliss. Dallas' computer beeped with an incoming chat request, but he ignored it. He was off the clock right now, sharing a moment with his daughter.

"Daddy?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"I hope this virus thing lasts a long time."

"That's not a good thing to wish for, honey."

"I know. But I want us to stay together like this forever."

"Me too!"

There was a pause and then Jenny said, "That was bad of me to wish the pandemic won't end, wasn't it? I should be spanked for that."

"Probably a good idea. Maybe we're lucky and in a good place, but this situation is hurting a lot of people."

"Yeah, definitely naughty. I should be spanked really hard."

And so Dallas did.