Honour Thy Father

Chapter One: Michael

Michael always regretted spanking his daughter, but it was the only way he could make her see reason. At eighteen she was headstrong, passionate, and the absolute light of his life. At five foot five with a curvy frame, generous breasts, and a tangle of dark brown hair, Eva was the spitting image of her late mother.

Eva's mother's death had devastated them both, and father and daughter were feeling the effects of their loss years later. For Michael's part, he channeled all of his hurt and sadness and angst into building the best possible life for his daughter- one that her mother would have been proud of. He made sure that Eva had opportunities to pursue her artwork, maintained good grades, and attended church every Sunday. While Michael wasn't particularly religious, it was important to Eva's mother so he persisted for her sake.

He looked down at the curve of his daughter's bright red ass as he delivered another slap. He longed for her childhood years where she was a happy-go-lucky little girl- one whose Daddy could do no wrong. These days wrong seemed to be all he was capable of. She continued to live with him after high school graduation to attend art school. Eva and he argued constantly, over everything- curfew, chores, dating...even what to have for dinner at night. Michael knew that Eva's mother's death was hard on her, and he did his best in the years following to lead with compassion. Teenage Eva was a force to be reckoned with, however, and he worried about the late hours and questionable company that she was keeping. He didn't want to control her- he knew that she was eighteen, but while she was still living under his roof he just wanted to keep her safe. No amount of gentle words or pleading would budge her, so Michael had to result to force.

"Daddy please this is humiliating- I am eighteen years old!" Eva protested, snapping Michael out of his reflection.

"I know Eva, and I don't like this any more than you do- but you have to learn. When I say that midnight is your curfew, I mean it," Michael replied, landing another five slaps on her warm behind.

He had pulled her panties down- not that the black thong she was wearing would have put up much resistance- so that each slap had maximum impact. He tried not to spank her often, but when he did he wanted her to remember it in hopes that he didn't have to do it again. Clearly that strategy had yet to be effective. She kicked her feet in protest, but her thong bound her ankles together.

"Daddy it hurts," she whined, squirming on his lap.

"Just lay still baby, it's almost over. Why is Daddy spanking you?" Michael asked.

"Because I missed your stupid curfew," she said. He couldn't see her eye roll, but he could certainly hear it in her tone of voice. Michael slapped her ass again, harder.

"Curfews aren't stupid, especially while you are still living under my roof," Michael corrected with another spank. "Midnight is quite generous on a school night. More importantly, you disrespected me. As long as you live here, you need to obey me, Eva. The rules that I have are not unreasonable, and they are for your own good."

Michael could feel his frustration growing as he spoke, focusing in on the level of disrespect that Eva had shown him. He really was just trying to do what was best for her, and certainly wasn't the only father in the world who imposed curfews. He felt his frustration channeling through his hand as he continued spanking- it started to feel somewhat cathartic.

"Daddy, please," Eva whimpered. It was the first sign that her resolve was slipping. Michael softened, if only slightly.

"Ten more and then we can talk- you know that I am doing this because I love you," Michael said gently. He readjusted her over his knee and felt her settle. "Count them, baby," he said, hoping that the focus of counting would distract her a bit from the pain he was about to inflict.

He vowed not to hold back on the last 10 spankings. He had found Eva over his knee far too often over the past few weeks and needed to make the spankings resonate with her. When the first slap landed on her right cheek, she cried out.

"Ouch Daddy!"

"Count, baby."

Eva paused, debating her defiance. "One," she mumbled, defeated.

Michael slapped her again, in the exact same spot. He could feel Eva suck in air, but also square her shoulders. "Two," she said, this time more clearly.

Eva held out all the way to seven before she started to cry. "Daddy, please stop. I can't take any more. I promise I'll be good. I'll never miss curfew again Daddy, please. Please no more spankings," she sniffled, tears running down her cheeks.

Michael paused, stroking his daughter's unruly brown hair and wiping away her tears. "You're almost done. Three more Eva, you can do it. This is how you will learn to obey your Daddy," he said firmly. His heart ached for his daughter, but he knew that he needed to finish what he had started. He prayed that this would be the last time.

"Eight," Eva choked through a sob as he landed the next spank. Her entire ass was a fiery red and was warm to the touch under Michael's palm. He gently squeezed where he had just slapped to massage the tissue in hopes of giving her some relief. She was freely crying now, her previous protests now made impossible through her sobs.

"Two more, baby, are you ready? Will you do what Daddy says from now on?" he asked, gently stroking the welts on her ass.

"Y...yes, Daddy," Eva whimpered.

Michael landed the last two blows in quick succession to put both of them out of their misery. Eva dutifully counted each, and then crumbled over his knee in tears.

"Come here, baby, it's over," Michael said, pulling Eva into a sitting position. She straddled his waist, wrapping her legs and arms around him and putting her head on his shoulder as she cried. "That's it, you're okay," he said as he tightly embraced her trembling frame.

Michael held Eva like that until her crying quieted to whimpering. Her chest heaved into him as she choked out the last few sobs. He felt her hands gripping the back of his shirt as she held onto him. "What did you learn, baby?" he asked her gently.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have disobeyed you. I won't miss curfew again, I promise," she whispered into his shoulder.

"Good girl," Michael said, pleased. "You know that Daddy doesn't like to spank you, but I had no other choice. If you can be a good girl, we won't have to do that again, okay?" he said, gently stroking her back.

"Yes, Daddy, I'll be a good girl for you," she promised. She stayed like that, wrapped around him, until she fell asleep and Michael carried her to her room. He gently removed her panties from around her ankles, and tucked her into bed.

Chapter Two: Eva

School feels longer than usual when your ass hurts so badly that it's hard to sit down. Eva made a mental note to only break curfew on weekends in the future, so that she didn't have to endure hours of classroom lectures with a welted ass. Last night felt different than previous spankings; Daddy was so angry, and she definitely felt it then and now.

Eva winced as she shuffled in her seat behind her easel. She was enrolled in an immersive four-year art program in college. Students came from all over the area to pursue artistic passions, whether visual art, music, photography, or drama. It was a creative collective, and had a 100% employment rate after graduation, which was all but unheard of for an arts school. She knew it wasn't cheap, and felt a pang of gratitude toward her Daddy to match the pang of pain in her ass.

Eva studied her work in progress on the easel, which is all she had done for the full hour of class. She had been painting moody forest scenes as of late. Her mother loved being in nature, so Eva supposed it was some sort of tribute to her- but the palate of greys and blacks that painted the canvas stamped the scene with Eva's perpetual melancholy. It was the last class of the school year, so she supposed that this piece would remain a work in progress indefinitely.

"Wow, that's beautiful," a voice behind her said, "but...a little depressing. Why wouldn't you use colour?" The voice belonged to Melody, one of the photography students. Her platinum blonde hair, perfect, slim body, and thousand-watt smile made looking at her akin to looking directly into the sun. Melody was in a different program and a year ahead, so Eva didn't know much about her beyond the fact that she was a star athlete, gifted photographer, and all around perfect person. She also happened to be the daughter of her church's Minister, who never missed an opportunity to brag about her to Eva's dad. If only all fathers could be blessed with perfect daughters.

Eva stifled an eye roll before answering, "I like black."

"Oh," Melody replied, not to be discouraged. "I guess it kind of looks like some of my black and white photos- I totally get it- timeless," she beamed, clearly eager to have found common ground. Eva vaguely wondered what her angle was- it's not like she needed more friends, and Eva certainly wasn't the kind of girl that Melody wanted to be friends with.

Eva didn't have a bad reputation, but she didn't exactly meet the qualifications for the Preacher's daughter's friend group. Eva didn't have many friends- more acquaintances, and mostly guys. Yes, occasionally let some of those guys feel her up. While she didn't have much use for men, she did find them fairly easy to be around, and they could make her feel good with the right instruction.

It's not like she was a slut- she had only had sex with three guys- but she didn't buy into the virtue of virginity that her church was selling. It was so rare for Eva to actually feel good, and as it turned out- sex felt good. So what if she leaned into that sometimes? Next time she would just have to make sure to be home by curfew.

"Ya, I guess," Eva replied lamely. She really just wanted to be left to brood about her sore ass in peace.

"It kind of reminds me of this place near my father's cabin," Melody continued, oblivious to Eva's very clear "leave me alone" vibe. She leaned in closer to the painting, her small breasts in Eva's exact line of vision. Eva could see a white lace bra peeking out of her tank top, and smell Melody's perfume, which was somehow a mix of cotton candy and flowers. Barf.

"It's this place my Mom used to take my dad and I hiking- before she died," Eva offered, to her own surprise. Why was she sharing that part of herself- her most protected part- with a complete stranger?

"Oh, I'm sorry," Melody said, genuine empathy in her eyes. She put her hand on Eva's shoulder, and in another surprising moment Eva didn't recoil.

"Thanks," Eva offered, "maybe it is the same place."

Melody smiled at her. "Imagine that! What a coincidence that would be!" Her perpetual optimism would have typically grated Eva, but for some reason she felt drawn in. Just as she was about to ask what Melody was working on, the girl's cell phone alarm went off. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I have to go- Father will be here in five minutes and it's rude to make him wait. I hope you finish your painting!" With that she rushed out the door, leaving Eva with a bemused expression.

'Man, that girl is a lot,', she thought to herself, but couldn't deny that she had an intriguing air about her- even if she was completely wrapped around her father's finger.

--

Eva elected to head to her friend Troy's place after class instead of going home. She sent Daddy a vague text about an end of school party, now wanting to get into the who and where of it all. After what he did to her last night, she hardly owed him anything.

When she got to Troy's, they had a few drinks. This was their usual custom- get a good buzz on, and then get naked. Eva appreciated the opportunity to shut off (she didn't have to think very hard to be around Troy), and to feel good. Troy appreciated her huge boobs. They worked well together.

Eva could taste the whiskey on Troy's breath as he kissed her. She sunk further into the couch, getting comfortable for a long makeout. He was a skilled kisser, and she let herself get lost in his lips and tongue. She knew eventually she would feel them between her legs and could feel herself getting wet at the thought.

She ran her fingers through Troy's curly hair, tugging on it as their kisses became more urgent. He made quick work of her bra, stopping to gawk at her perfect breasts. Eva's nipples hardened as he sucked them, the ripple of pleasure heading directly between her legs. She took Troy's head in both of her hands, urgently guiding him down. She craved his mouth on her, and did have a curfew to make after all.

She wiggled out of her panties and spread her legs as his mouth took her. He licked her gently first, moving his tongue back and forth along her slit to make her squirm. "Come on, Troy, don't tease me," she begged. He relented, driving a finger inside her as he took her clit between his lips.

His fingers curled upward, teasing the sweet spot inside her as she squirmed. She was vaguely aware of the tenderness in her ass as she grinded up into his face, but the pleasure he created was more than enough to distract her. "Troy, please don't stop," she breathed desperately, her body chasing one of the only highs that made her feel anything at all. When she fell over the cliff, she felt alive.

Troy quickly slipped inside her after she came, his rock-hard cock easily finding its place in her wetness. Eva wrapped her legs around him, desperate to feel the connection that comes with sex. While she knew that they weren't in love, she still craved the intimacy that sex provided. She felt so disconnected from the rest of her life, any connection helped to fill the void.

Troy thrusted into her, driving her ass into the couch. While he felt amazing, each thrust coupled the pleasure of his cock inside her with the pain of her ass on the rough couch fabric. The fact that Eva was forced to think of Daddy's punishment during this moment was humiliating. It completely destroyed the mood. She found herself willing Troy to finish, just so that she could get home before curfew and avoid another spanking.

When he finally did, she quickly gathered her clothes, hastily stuffing her panties into her purse and pulling on her pants. She mumbled a goodbye to Troy, who was too blissed out in a post-orgasmic haze to particularly notice. She checked her watch as she walked home, knowing that she wasn't going to make it in time.

Her father was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for her. He said nothing as she came into the kitchen, which was far more unsettling than his usual passionate monologue. She sat her purse on the table before she realized that her panties were hanging out of it.

He stood, walking over to her. He leaned in close enough to smell the alcohol on her breath, reaching past her and pulling the satin material from her purse. He dropped them on the table in front of her, looking into her eyes and shaking his head before retiring to his room. The hurt in his eyes was worse than a million spankings.

Chapter Three: Father David

"You are doing the best you can," Father David said to the worried man in front of him. Michael had joined the church with his wife when they married and continued to dutifully bring his daughter every Sunday even after her mother passed. Her death had clearly taken a toll on both father and daughter, and Father David empathized entirely with Michael's plight. Daughters were not easy to raise, especially if you wanted to do it properly.

"I just don't know what else to do. I feel so terrible for hurting her like that, but I had no other options- she's just impossible. Even after the spanking, the very next night she came home with panties in her purse and vodka on her breath," Michael lamented as he wrung his hands. The man's face betrayed a mixture of worry and resignation; Father David knew that things must be pretty bad if he was seeking solace in the church. While his late wife had been a devout Christian, he knew that Michael was a more skeptical follower.

"I know what you are going through," Father David said, hoping to validate this poor man's feelings. "I have a daughter too, and while Melody is a very good girl, that didn't come naturally. Daughters sometimes need a strong hand to keep them safe," he said empathetically.

"I didn't expect that kind of understanding," Michael admitted. "I honestly don't know why I even came here. I think part of me wanted to be chastised for spanking her the way that I did. Another part of me knew that my wife always came here when she was troubled, and it always seemed to help. I just feel so helpless and lost...thank you so much for listening, Father."

"I am not here to chastise you," Father David reassured him. "I am merely here to guide and offer advice- if that is what you're looking for." Father David could tell that Michael's heart was in the right place- he did not desire to exude undue power or influence over his daughter, but merely wanted to ensure her safety and obedience. "Trust is built through obedience; if Eva wants you to trust her, she must first prove to you that she can be trusted."

"Yes! Exactly yes- that is what I have been trying to teach her. I am so worried about her, Father. I just want her to be safe and happy."

Michael's love for his daughter was so clear that Father David felt a hitch in his chest as he thought of Melody. She was such a respectful, obedient daughter- he had made sure of it- and he was grateful not to have to worry about the issues that plagued Michael.

"I just want what you have with your daughter," Michael continued. "You two seem so close, and she clearly respects you. Eva and I used to have that relationship- I want to get us back there."

Father David studied Michael. "My relationship with Melody is the result of a great deal of work, and some fairly non-traditional approaches to parenting. I have the church to thank for showing me the best ways to parent a daughter, and Michael, if you're interested, I would be willing to share some of the practices with you."

Michael looked up from his hands, holding eye contact with Father David. Tears were glistening in his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Father, thank you so much. I am open to anything. The traditional ways that I know are not working; I would be so grateful for any of your help. My wife trusted you with her problems, and I am here to do the same."

--

The two men spent the next hour reviewing Father David's approaches to raising his daughter. Father David requested patience and open-mindedness from Michael, and also for Michael to wait until Father David was finished explaining before passing judgement. Michael easily agreed, but once he got into the conversation, he realized that he may have spoken too soon.

Father David had only had this conversation with three men over his lifetime, one of whom being his own father, the church's previous minister. Father David had taken over from his dad before he died, and was given all of the teachings of the church. He shared these particular teachings sparingly, and only to those who he deemed deserving of the wisdom- and whom he had the capacity to help. Michael's love and protectiveness for his daughter, coupled with his genuine remorse for causing her pain, convinced Father David that he was worthy. His late wife's relationship with the church was also admittedly a factor.

When he finished explaining, he waited for Michael to speak. There were a few times that Michael tried to interrupt, and twice when he tried to walk out, both reactions that were to be expected. Father David patiently reminded Michael of his promise to hear the full story, and he continued to listen.