Saturday Morning
From my seat on the couch, I watched Ashley come bounding down the stair steps, making enough noise to rouse the dead. I didn’t think a hundred pound girl could make that much noise. Her older and bigger brothers on the football team were lighter on their feet than her. Still, her exuberance was catchy, but I had to try and fight it off this morning, if I could. We had a rather…delicatematter… to discuss.
It wasn’t helping that she had on those tight little sleeping pants, the kind that are made of super thin cotton material. She also wore a very tight long-sleeve T-shirt; obviously, she should’ve gotten rid of it years ago. But she wouldn’t give up her Spiderman shirt for anyone, even if it was so thin that you could see the faint outlines of her nipples when they were just resting.
“Good morning Daddy!” she kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Still in that crappy old robe, I see!”
“Morning, Punkins. Coffee’s hot, and there’s muffins on the counter.”
“Mmmm that’s what woke me up!”
She puttered around for a little bit making her coffee and buttering her blueberry muffins.
“And I happen to like this robe. It’s got a lot of family history on it,” I joked half-heartedly, trying to postpone the inevitable.
She just shook her head at me as she munched her breakfast.
“Dad, I hope you didn’t have too many of these muffins. You know they have gluten in them. Hey, where is everybody?”
I sighed quietly.We were getting close. How much longer can I put this off?
“Mom just left with Marj; they went to that antique swap meet and will have lunch after. The boys have a double-header over in Claremont, sooo, it’s just us for a good part of the day.”
“Oh no! What are we going to do all day?” She laughed.
You’ll probably be sitting on your butt in your room, on restriction for the next five years.
With a big sigh, I put my tablet down, then I motioned her to the couch.
“Ash, Ashley. Come sit down, we’ve got to talk.”
“Okay Jeremy,” she replied in a deep voice, trying to mimic me. She continued the joke, “What’s the trouble, Sir. Problems with your kids?”
“Ashley, this isn’t funny. It’s very serious.”
To be fair, many times I would start a conversation like this, then inform her I had concert tickets that I didn’t know what to do with. So she was used to me goofing around.
“Okay, father.”
She still was using her imitating-dad voice. I cocked my head at her and didn’t smile.
“Sorry Daddy,” she responded in her regular voice. She sat down on the couch next to me. “What’s going on?”
Well, here goes nothing.
“Mr. Patton called me late Thursday afternoon. You know Mr. Patton?”
“Yes Daddy, he’s the principal. Sooo…”
“Yeah. So. He said… Ashley this isn’t easy for me.”
I wrung my hands, I really didn’t know where to start.
“Daddy, just say it and we will deal with it.”
I looked at her. For someone who just turned eighteen, sometimes she shows a lot of maturity.
“Alright then. Mr. Patton said that you were behind the drug store, after school.”
I watched her stiffen, and her eyes widen. So, it’s true, I thought. Her body language gave her away; there would be no way for her to lie her way out of this now.
“He said… Jesus… he said you were there with three boys who… all had their pants down.”
“Daddy I—”
“And, of course, I didn’t believe him. Not my little girl! She isn’t a slut like that!”
“Dad—”
“So then he goes on to say that the girl, Samantha, was it? I guess she’s the bitch who ratted you out. Anyway, This bitch shows him a video where you can see the boys, and a girl, with long blonde hair and a blue and gold ribbon tied in it, on her knees in front of one of them. She has her hands on his hips and her head is bobbing back and forth.”
Ashley sank back into the couch, red-faced and ashamed.
“And you can hear one of those little jack-asses holler ‘Ashley, come suck mine when you’re done with Jason’s’.”
I glared at her.
“Do you have even the slightest bit of comprehension? The slightest notion of how embarrassing this is? To me? To our family? And how dangerous this is to you?”
“Daddy, we can talk about this.”
“So you don’t even deny it?”
She looked at me.
“Daddy, we promised we could be open and honest with each other. Remember you made that promise to me: I will be honest with you and you will be honest with me. Remember?”
I hung my head. I guess I knew it was true, deep down. But I wanted there to be some reason that it could be someone else, some other Ashley. But, no. It was my daughter on the little video.
“Yeah, so what! I’mhonestlyvery concerned about you being the Ridgemont High school slut!”
“I’m not the school slut, Daddy! These were my friends… wait, is this why you were avoiding me yesterday?”
“Yeah… I didn’t want to tell your mother. It would break her heart. Kinda like mine is breaking right now. Can you imagine if Mom picked up that call?”
“Daddy…” she reached over to hold my hand. She squeezed it tightly, I didn’t respond.
“Daddy these are my friends, I wasn’t blowing them or… sucking them off.”
“You know you could’ve been raped! You get these boys aroused like this and they could just… rape you—”
“Daddy! These are my friends, they would never do that. I wasn’t in danger…”
“You don’t know that!” I yelled.
Fuck, I need to calm down.I took a deep breath and continued.
“You… your body is outpacing your brain. You look like a full grown woman now, you know? And that makes guys think… things.”
“I know what they think about, Daddy. I think about that also. I want them thinking that about me.”
My anger began rising again. I was losing my temper, fast.
“Christ! You are the school slut! Give me your phone.”
She reluctantly handed it over.
“What’s the code?” I asked, exasperated. “And you better not change it either. From now on your phone is open to me.”
“Oh-seven-three-oh,” she quickly answered.
“Zero-seven… wait… that’s my birthday.”
“I know, Daddy.”
I opened up the ‘Pictures’ app and began scrolling. I had only swiped a couple times before I found the dick pics.
“Oh wow, a cock. And… another one… and another, fantastic… look at all these hard cocks. Different ones too…”
The anger just kept rising in me.
“Those are… just my friends. They wanted me to take their pictures. That’s what I was doing Wednesday, just taking their pictures.”
“Yeah. Uh huh.” Jesus Christ, I could feel my heart beating in my chest.
“Daddy I’m not lying! I’m… I’m still a virgin.”
“Yeah, right. Oh, this pic is interesting, a naked girl… can’t see the face but she’s naked and showing… wait… that’syourcomforter, isn’t it! This naked girl isyou! Isn’t it!”
I tossed the phone down on the couch. I couldn’t look anymore.
She turned away from me, but I could still see the side of her face turning a bright red.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s me.”
“Great, and you’re sending this picture and how many others to who, anyone who asks?”
Ashley was so smart and had so much going for her. And yet, here she was, getting naked to the world. A fucking slut.
“Daddy, it’s not like that. You see—”
“Not like that? Don’t you get it? You send out naked selfies of yourself, and they are out there forever! The internet never forgets! How can you be so… so stupid?”
Ashley glared at me. Calling her stupid was pretty mean. I knew I was losing control, but I couldn’t help it. This was my little girl, and these idiot friends of hers were leading her down a bad path…
“Daddy, these were just for Alyssa and me. That’s all! I didn’t give them to anyone else—”
“Don’t you lie to me!”
I stood up and walked to the kitchen. I tried to pour myself a cup of coffee but my hands were shaking so bad I just stopped.
I looked at her and just shouted, “Godammit!” as I smacked the wall with my open palm.
“Daddy you should calm down, this isn’t good for your blood pressure… And I wasn’t lying.”
“Calm down? Oh perfect, now you’re giving me medical and parenting advice!”
“Daddy, sit down and let’s talk. I don’t want you to be mad at me like this, like mom would.”
Oh, that’s a low blow, comparing me to her mother.
“Daddy I just… I want you to love me and accept me for who I am.”
She looked at me with those pleading eyes. They almost got to me. Then I remembered the naked picture of her, her legs wide open and her fingers inside herself.
I gritted my teeth and slapped the wall again, hard. The emotions swirling in my head were almost too much.
“Daddy, can’t we just talk about this?”
“I don’t even know what to say to you. I can’t talk to your mom. I can’t talk to Father Sarducci about this… I love you sweetheart, but you… you need to be controlled… or taught a lesson… or… I don’t even fucking know what.”
I bowed my head for a few seconds.
“I stopped spanking you when you were ten. Do you remember? The last one? I swear you broke that Beatles record on purpose.”
Ash looked at the floor.
“Yeah, maybe I did… break it on purpose, I mean.”
I looked up, shocked.
“What?” My voice was a lot louder than I intended it to be. “I was just being facetious!”
“Daddy, stop yelling. You’re overreacting, again.”
The audacity.
The audacity that she even had the gall to think I was overreacting. And then, it hit me: sudden clarity. Instead of screaming louder, my voice went lower, and I spoke in slow, menacing tones as I over-enunciated each word.
“You think I’m overreacting? You ain’t seen nothing, honey. Stand up. Get over here.”
I pointed to the end of the couch. Ash obliged, looking confused and… scared.
Good.
“Put your hands on the arm of the couch,” I hissed. “I mean Now… yes bend over!”
She looked at me funny, and kept looking at me. I could tell she wanted to say something but I’d had enough, I didn’t want to hear it.
“Look forward, and don’t talk. Just count.” Then I mumbled under my breath, “I’ll show you overreacting…”
She faced forward as I stood behind her.
“Ummm… count what?”
I moved my bare hand back about a foot and swatted her barely covered bottom.
Ashley let out a little snort that may have been a laugh and said, “One.”
“You didn’t even feel that did you?”
“Well, to be honest—”
Smack.
I could see the side of her face, she was smiling.
“Two, I guess. You didn’t even mention the thong.”
I lost it. I was trying to teach her a lesson, and here she was smirking at me. And in typical parent fashion, I thought, I’ll give you something to laugh about.
Without even thinking, I raised my hand high above my head, and brought it down swiftly.
Smack!
My hand stung a little bit from that one. Ash jumped a little and cried, “Ouch!”
My hand rested on her bottom, and just as she eeked out a little “Three”, it dawned on me what she had just said.
“Wait, you’re wearing a thong? Where the hell did you get that?”
I started feeling the small of her back and, sure enough, under her little jammie pants, I could feel the ridges of the string thong.
“I borrowed it from Alyssa. Her mom is okay with her wearing it.”
I pulled the hem of her sleeping pants away from her body so I could get a better look. And there, in shiny blue satin, lay an ultra-thin thong on my daughter’s bottom.
“The only reason anyone wears a thong,” I began in that same slow, deliberate voice I used earlier, “is to entice, or show it off to someone you want to have sex with. Who is it? One of those so-called friends? Well, it’s coming off, little missy, and it’s coming off now!”
I gripped her pajama bottoms and yanked them down to her ankles. Without even hesitating, I grabbed her thong and pulled it down also. I knew, on some level, at least, that this was wrong, this wasn’t what I should be doing. But everything about that morning just made me infinitely more angry.
I lifted Ashley’s leg so she could step out of the pants and thong. Then, I yanked them off her other leg.
“Alright, put your foot back in here… no not that one… here… why aren’t you helping me?”
“I’m trying, Daddy.”
“No you’re not, I’m trying to put your pants back on, come on!”
She stepped again on her pants, seemingly so I couldn’t get her foot back into the pant leg.
My head filled with images, memories of my little girl… breaking my record on purpose… seeing that naked picture of her… thinking of her naked with her friend… blowing those boys behind the store… spanking her a moment ago… seeing her bare ass… feeling my cock harden…
I swear to God, I saw red. I’ve heard people say that before but I thought it was bullshit. It’s not. I was so angry I saw everything through a slightly red haze. My blood pressure must’ve been sky-high.
I stood up and let loose with a rapid-fire barrage on her bottom.
Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack!
She had grown into a full-fledged woman, my daughter. And quickly, sharply, yet methodically, I spanked her hard all over her bare ass.
I breathed heavy, surveying the damage I’d done. Her bare ass began to glow a deep, radiant pink. I barely noticed Ashley had whimpered with each blow of my hand and was now gasping for breath.
“Daddy… (gasp) That’s um… seven or eight (gasp)… I think, I’m not sure.”
I took several deep breaths and regained control of myself. I was seeing normally now, the redness was gone from my sight, but not from her ass. I stood to her side her as she remained bent over, her hands on the arm of the couch. I was beginning to wonder what the fuck I’d just done.
“Yeah, ummm… you’re probably right… I guess…” I had lost track also.
She turned her head to look at me, I could see her wet eyes glistening and her disheveled, long blonde hair fell over parts of her face.
“Daddy? Do you like spanking my bare bottom?”
I followed her eyes as she lowered them, looking at my crotch… and the very noticeable bulge in my robe. I was commando under the robe, so my hard cock was sticking pretty much straight out.
“I think you do, Daddy.”
She originally had her hands on the arm of the couch so she was somewhat bent forward. Now, she lowered herself to rest on her elbows, resulting in her being bent over a full ninety degrees.
My blood boiled again at this lascivious display, and her filthy mouth. Why does she have to be such a slut?
“You said earlier you wanted honesty. Here’s some honesty for you!”
SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK…
I didn’t stop.
I spanked my girl, my baby girl, so hard, and for so long.
She screamed, she wailed, she moaned out, “Daddy!” several times. But never once did she say, “Stop.”
I slapped, smacked, and spanked her, all over her ass. I slapped her lower thighs, I slapped her cheeks, and then… I seemed to concentrate on spanking her right on her crack. And… her lower crack… and I knew that parts of my hand and fingers were slapping against her womanhood… and I watched as her tits jiggled… and I could see her nipples protruding through her shirt… and I saw her tears falling onto the couch and I thought to myself, good… and I could smell her pussy… and… and…
And I finally stopped.
I stood there, in the family room of our house, dressed in my old robe and a t-shirt, sweating like a pig with a raging hard-on… and I had my hand resting comfortably on my daughter’s bare ass.
It was hot. I mean her skin, it was hot to the touch. I gently caressed both cheeks. And somehow, my hand drifted lower. My middle finger grazed her little backdoor, and my fingers then skimmed over her sex, and it was flowing. I mean oozing. Her secretions flowed down the inside of her thighs.
And that’s when the realization set in. The realization that I had beaten my daughter, and that I was a sick fuck. I only then noticed that Ashley was full-on crying, her shoulders jumping and her eyes and nose dripping on the cushions.
“Don’t… don’t cry, Ash.”
She couldn’t answer because of her sobs, she just shook her head. She also didn’t even wipe her eyes or nose. She stayed in her bent-over position. I rubbed her with the intent to comfort her, but my hand was right in her cleft. I rubbed her sex… and she moaned as she also coated my fingers.
I swear the room spun. I stepped away from her in horror, in full revulsion of what I had done. I fell backward onto the comfy couch. My mind went a thousand miles an hour in all directions… I pictured myself alone, divorced, all my kids walking away from me as I went to prison… having sex with my daughter… getting fired from work… kissing my daughter… my wife burning all my stuff and laughing at me… my daughter sucking my cock… my sons beating me up… kissing Ash…what have I done
With my elbows on my knees, I held my head in my hands, trying not to cry. Without looking up, I managed to squeak out a few words.
“I’m sorry, Ashley. I am so sorry. I am a terrible father. I’m sorry.”
I just kept whispering,”I’m sorry.”
I knew it wouldn’t do any good. How can you “take back” something like this? You can’t, and I knew it, and I knew my life was over.
“Daddy,” Ash said through her tears. “It’s okay. I made you mad.”
“I am the worst father in the world.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“I’m so ashamed, you deserve a better father than me.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy, for acting up like I did.”
Stunned, I responded, “You have nothing to be sorry about! You just need a little guidance is all, and I…”
I raised my head at this…