textfiles/sex/EROTICA/F/fire.txt

Cynthia, now 19, was home for the summer, and though she was
generally helpful around the house, there were times that teenage
stupidity would suddenly return.

One such time, she was cooking dinner for herself and Mom, who
was out shopping. Dad was coming home much later from work and
would have eaten already. After preparing the chops and closing
the oven door, the phone rang, and Cynthia chattered happily and
carelessly with her beau. At about the same time the front door
opened, Cynthia noticed that smoke was billowing from the oven.
She had forgotten all about dinner!

Well, Mom had a fit, calling her daughter a few choice names,
then went to put out the fire and clean up the damage. When she
asked an unrepentant Cynthia to assist, the lanky redhead made a
face, swished her tail and stalked out of the kitchen.

"Come back here!" her mother yelled, but Cynthia simply replied,
"Get a life you old bitch. I don't need this." As Mom strode
after her, in a mind to impose some old-fashioned discipline,
Cynthia turned back and raised her hand in a both dismissive and
threatening manner.

The two hot-tempered ladies kept their distance until after Dad
got home. In a few minutes, he summoned Cynthia into the den.

"What has gotten in to you?" he remonstrated. "Mom told me what
happened, and that's bad enough -- ruining dinner and almost
burning down the kitchen. But you should not have treated your
mother that way."

"Aw, Dad, I just forgot, y'know? I didn't mean anything by it,
but she's on my back all the time."

"Cynthia Lynn," he began in a tone that reminded her of something
very unpleasant. "You are welcome in our house, but you are most
definitely NOT welcome to act like a brat. Do you remember what
used to happen when you talked back like that?"

"Yeah, Dad, I do," she spat angrily, daring him to respond. 
"Well, it is about to happen again!"

"What do you mean?" she sputtered, watching wide-eyed as Dad
reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and procured the large
wooden hairbrush that Cynthia had felt so many times so long ago.

As Cynthia made a move for the door, Dad leaped from his chair,
cut her off and took her by the shoulders right back toward the
desk and the wide-seated chair she knew all too well. "You are
not too big for this, young lady, and you are going to get a good
old-fashioned spanking!"

"You can't DO that, Daddy!" she yelled, starting to clutch
tightly at the waistband of her spandex slacks.

With a series of ooofs and grunts, Dad in short order had his
teenaged minx across his lap. "In consideration of your age, you
may keep your pants on for this, but you are going to be punished
just like you were a little girl," he announced.

"Daddy, no! No! Don't do it Daddy!" Cynthia yelled. She might as
well have been shouting into an empty forest.

With her curvy torso thrown forward, her palms against the floor
and her long legs stretched out to Dad's right, her father
smoothed and tightened the fabric across his naughty daughter's
bottom. Despite her protests, this well-deserved licking
commenced.

CRACK SPANK SMACK WHAP WHAP, he began rhytmically and quite
briskly. 
"Owww! Owwww! Daddy, stop it! This is so juvenile!"

"Yes it is, Cynthia, and you deserve every one of these," he
quickly retorted, applying the brush evenly to her backside, top
to bottom down each side, then across both cheeks.

SMACK SMACK SPLAT WHAP SLAP SWAT SMACCCCCKKKK!!!

"NNNNGGGHHHHHWAAAA" Cynthia wailed, as the pain lashed through
her slacks and thin panties. Owwwww!!! NNNNhhhuhhhh!!! Stop it!
Oucccchhhhh!!!! Owwwww!!!!

Dad continued with vigor. SPANK SMACK WHACK WHAP WHAP SPANK SPANK
SLAP SMACK!!!! Each contact between the brush and Cynthia's
bottom echoed throughout the house, and the sound of it was worse
to her ears than the pain, which, of course, was considerable.

Crying steadily, Cynthia finally sobbed the magic words that
ended her ordeal: "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm VERY sorry."

"Yes, I believe you are," he said, still holding her tight across
his lap. He had stopped spanking, and now was letting her cry her
lungs out, letting the shame sink in. He began rubbing her pants
softly, making circles with his palm where the hairbrush had
fallen so severely. When she caught her breath and asked, "May I
get up, Daddy?" her father helped her to her feet. 
She turned away in embarrassment, then her jaw dropped when Dad
announced: "Now it is your mother's turn!" Speechless, Cynthia
felt herself being taken hard by the arm and marched back into
the kitchen, the scene of the crime. 
"All yours, dear," he told Mom, as he bent Cynthia over the new
tiled counter.

Her mother then did the unthinkable! She firmly pulled at
Cynthia's waistband and yanked down her slacks. "NOOOOO!" her
unruly daughter protested. "Mother! Stop this! I didn't mean to
insult you. Stop this!" 
"Too late, young lady," Mom replied crisply, as she pulled
Cynthia's skimpy panties down to her knees. "What about Daddy?"
Cynthia cried, remembering her father's concern for her modesty.

"You have a choice, Cynthia, an unpleasant choice to make," Mom
told her. "Either Dad stays here to make sure you take the
licking I should have given you before, or you stay in place and
he'll leave the room." 
Cynthia, sobbing and twisting, squirming and stamping her feet,
pondered the dilemma, but not for long. "Tell him to leave --
I'll try to stay put." 
"You WILL stay put!" Mom declared, pulling the long wooden spoon
out of the drawer next to Cynthia. "I haven't spanked you in
years, but by golly you have needed it."

I will spare the details of Cynthia's second whipping, but
suffice it to say that the wooden spoon got quite a workout,
re-reddening the ovals that Dad had burned into her saucy
backside and pinkening the few inches that he had missed. Mom had
given Cynthia about 25 good cracks with the spoon, until her
daughter was crying wretchedly and promising to behave.

From then on, Cynthia never ever forgot to pay attention to food
that was in the oven, the toaster, the broiler, the grill or
anywhere there was a chance that fire would break out and spread
to her naughty, sassy bottom.