Megan grinned, her green eyes sparkling. The group had been out on the town, celebrating their recent success in the end-of-term exams. Fuelled by too much alcohol, they had returned to campus, gathering together in Megan and Cindy’s room to play truth or dare.
Megan had been given a forfeit—to egg their campus doctor’s windows—because she had refused to answer Cindy’s question, “Do you have the hots for Dr. Wilkie?” She had been too embarrassed to acknowledge her crush on the handsome older man, so had opted for a dare.
“Okay,” Megan agreed. “I’m game. I’ll do it.” The other girls squealed with delight and Louise rushed across to the fridge, returning with an egg in each hand. “Here, you’ll need these,” she said, watching as Megan rolled her hair up into a bun and pulled a cap onto her head. Next she kicked off her red high heels and pulled on her trainers. “He won’t recognise you anyway,” Louise said, handing the eggs over. “There’s thousands of students on this campus, and it’s dark.” Megan nodded, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
The giggling group stumbled from the room, down the corridor, and out into the cool night air. They headed across the campus to the staff quarters, passing the caretaker’s lodge, then the two blocks of apartments where many of the teachers lived. Finally, they reached the two detached houses at the end, facing each other.
Megan stopped and looked anxiously toward the one on her left. The campus head, Dean Jones, lived there. He was a strict disciplinarian and would cane the girls if he caught them and probably put them in detention for a month! The lights glowed behind his living room curtains. Megan glanced toward the upper floor to make sure the grumpy old dean was not watching before turning her attention to the house opposite.
She had been to the doctor’s home once before, for medical attention one weekend, after she had fallen and cut her leg. During college hours, students would visit him at his clinic inside the main building. She had only been there once, for an immunisation that all the girls were required to have, but she felt pretty certain he would not remember her from just those two brief encounters.
She cast one last glance toward the dean’s home, before looking to her friends, huddled in a group several yards away from her. “Go on,” hissed Joanne, “or are you too chicken?”
Smirking, Megan shook her head and tiptoed closer to the doctor’s house. Seeing no lights on inside, she drew her arm back and threw the first egg, aiming for the centre of the large living room window. Encouraged by her friends, she prepared to throw the second, when one of the upstairs windows suddenly swung open.
Glancing up, she panicked when she saw the doctor leaning out. “Don’t you dare throw that,” he warned. “Stay there, young lady. I’m coming down.”
When the window banged shut, Megan glanced across to her friends. “Run,” shouted Louise. “Come on,” yelled Cindy, “run, before he catches you.” Megan turned, intending to follow their advice. “Chuck it,” shouted Bethanie, “then run.”
Glancing back at the front door, where the light came on in the hallway, Megan trembled with excitement. Grinning, she squealed with delight as she hurled the second egg. It splattered against the window, just as the front door was yanked open. “You little brat,” the doctor shouted, stepping outside and looking at his window. With hands on hips, he shook his head. “You can clean that mess up right now, young lady, then we’ll go and see what the dean has to say about this. If he doesn’t tan your butt good and proper, I’ll do it myself.”
Megan’s feet seemed frozen to the spot for a moment, but as he turned away from the soiled window and stepped toward her, she lowered her head. Then Megan did the only thing she could think of—she turned and ran. Her heart was racing as she caught up with her friends, who had hurried away from the house as soon as the angry doctor opened his door.
“Get back here or I’ll call the police,” he yelled, but the group sprinted back to their accommodation block, without looking back. No one said a word until they were safely inside Megan and Cindy’s room.
After revelling in the glory of carrying out her dare, Megan left her friends to go and meet her mother. She had arranged to spend the weekend with her parents and was very much looking forward to a Saturday morning shopping trip. Cindy accompanied her to the campus gates, where Megan’s mother was waiting.
“Hi, Mrs. Miller,” Cindy said, leaning into the car.
“Hi, Cindy, how are you?”
“I’m fine, but while Megan’s at home being spoiled, my poor fellow students and I are going to be stuck in our rooms, with no money and no alcohol,” she said, sticking out her lower lip.
“Don’t you get an allowance?” Megan’s mother asked, smiling.
“Yeah, but it’s all gone.” Cindy sighed and threw her hands in the air, glancing enviously at the box of wine on the back seat of the car.
“Go on, take it,” Mrs. Miller told the chubby, blonde-haired girl. Needing no further invitation, Cindy pulled the back door open. “All of it?” she asked hopefully, looking at the box containing six bottles of wine.
“Yes, now scram. We’ll have to make a stop on the way home and get your dad some more,” she said to Megan, who climbed into the car beside her.
“Thanks, Mrs. Miller. Have a great weekend.”
“Bye, Cindy,” she said, laughing as the girl leaned against the car, balancing the box on her hip. Slamming the door, she waved and then was gone.
“Sorry, Mum,” Megan said, rolling her eyes. “She’s terrible. She’ll scrounge from anyone.”
Mrs. Miller smiled as she reached across and hugged her daughter. “No worries. I was a student myself, you know. A couple of my friends once knocked on the dean’s door to ask for help with a flat tyre. We knew he was having all the staff around for a party that night, so while he was fixing the car, a few of us slipped into his cottage and pinched several bottles of wine. He had so much, he wouldn’t have even realised.”
“Mum, you’re terrible!” Megan said, laughing at her mother, whose eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I know, but don’t tell your dad,” she said, grinning.
“Deal,” Megan replied, giggling as they set off home.
She was tempted to share the details of her own prank with her mother, but decided against it. It was one thing her mother sharing her own misdeeds from thirty years earlier, before she had even met her father, but this was an entirely different matter. Her mother might tell her to own up to her wrongdoing, or worse still, inform her father.
Feeling a little drunk, Megan rested her head against the car window, listening to the relaxation CD her mother always played when driving. The tinkling piano notes washed away her worries, and when they stopped outside the supermarket, Megan stayed in the car.
Taking out her phone, she called Cindy. “Hey, no one’s been around to our room, have they?”
“If you mean Dr. Wilkie or Dean Jones, the answer’s no. Chill out, Meg, no one’s coming to get you. Enjoy the weekend. I know we’re going to. By the way, the gang say to thank your mum for the wine.”
Megan grinned as loud roars of approval came from the other girls. At this rate, she thought, they’d have none left for the weekend; it would all be gone by the end of the night. Oh, well, that wasn’t her worry, she thought, bidding her friend goodnight and putting her phone away, just as her mother returned to the car.
“Who was that?” Mrs. Miller asked, as she loaded the box of wine into the back seat.
“Oh, it was just Cindy, ringing to say thanks for the wine.”
“She already said thank you.”
“Yeah, but the others told her to ring and say thanks on their behalf, too,” Megan said.
“Oh, that’s nice of them,” she replied, getting back into the driver’s seat. “Such a nice group of friends you have. Your father and I were concerned you might fall in with the wrong crowd, but I see we had nothing to worry about,” she added, patting her daughter’s hand, before starting the car and driving away. Megan chewed her lower lip anxiously.
Minutes later, they pulled up outside her parents’ detached house. “Let’s get you inside before you catch a chill,” her mother said, opening the door and ushering her inside.
“Hello, princess,” her father greeted her, enveloping her in a hug. “Congratulations on your exams. I knew you’d pass with flying colours.”
“Your wine’s in the back of the car,” his wife said. “Shall I fetch it in?”
“No, I’ll get it. Go into the kitchen,” he told them. “Our dinner’s just been delivered.”
Megan just wanted to go to bed. She was tired, although it was just turned nine o’clock, and she felt a little dizzy from the alcohol. But she didn’t want to offend her parents, who had gone to the trouble of arranging a meal from her favourite takeaway. So she sat with them and enjoyed an Indian banquet at the kitchen table, sipping on the small glass of wine her father had given her. She smiled as she looked at the large glasses her parents were drinking from. They were like goldfish bowls in comparison, but she didn’t mind that her father still saw her as his little girl. It was quite sweet actually. And she had probably had more than enough alcohol anyway.
“Daddy, I know it’s quite early, and I really do appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I’ve had a busy week. I’d really just like to go to bed and catch up on my sleep, if you don’t mind,” she said.
Standing up, he ruffled her hair. “Okay, princess, you go and get your beauty sleep—not that you need any,” he added, grinning widely.
Megan dragged herself up the stairs, washed her face and brushed her teeth, before going into her bedroom. Too tired to undress herself, she lay on the bed and curled up into a ball. Closing her eyes, she thought she heard a phone ringing. When she sat up abruptly, she realised she was mistaken. Smiling, she laid back down. She was clearly a little more worse for wear than she thought, and had started hearing things.
A few minutes later, her door opened and footsteps moved across her room. Her eyes fluttered open and her mother looked down at her. “Goodnight,” she said, leaning forward and brushing her daughter’s hair out of her eyes. Picking up a blanket, she threw it over her. “Goodnight, Mum,” she replied, snuggling under the blanket. “I love you.” Kissing her cheek, her mother whispered, “I love you too.”
Lying in the darkness, she waited for her father to pop in. For as long as she could remember, her parents had always kissed her goodnight. Her eyelids grew heavier. When she heard her door open again, she struggled to open her eyes. Her father’s lips pressed against her forehead. “Me and you need to have a chat, young lady,” he said, sighing as he stepped back. “Mmm,” she replied, pulling her blanket tighter around her. “It’s late now; your mother said it’ll keep until morning. I guess it will.” His tone was abrupt, but Megan didn’t notice as she slipped into a peaceful slumber, her earlier worries now a fading memory.
“Time to get up, young lady,” Megan’s father said, shaking her roughly. “Come on, we need to be leaving soon,” he added, when she tried to pull the covers over her head.
“What time is it?” she asked, scowling as she rubbed her eyes. She felt as if she’d barely slept.
“Oh, Daddy, it’s too early. It’s the weekend. There’s no rush…”
“Are you arguing with me?” he said, cutting her protest short. Megan shook her head, as her father maintained his grip on her arm. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I thought we’d be sleeping late, like we usually do.”
“Yes, well, I don’t generally need to go into court on a Saturday, but today I do. You’re coming with me, so get out of bed and get dressed now.”
“Megan Teresa Miller!” Her father’s voice boomed and his dark brown eyes flashed with anger, his brows arching above them. Megan sat up and swung her legs out of bed, taking heed of his warning.
“I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m getting up.”
“Good choice. You were perilously close to starting the day with a trip to my study,” he said, finally releasing his hold on her upper arm. “Now get ready, and be quick about it.”
Megan shuddered. A trip to her father’s study was not good. Walking to the bathroom, still in yesterday’s clothes, she unconsciously cupped her buttocks. Dr. Wilkie’s threat to tan her backside suddenly popped into her mind. Oh, no, I hope Daddy hasn’t somehow found out, she thought. Shaking her head, she allowed herself a small smile. There was no way that had happened. Her father had simply been called into court for urgent business, as was sometimes the case. He was obviously going to drop her and her mother off in town on his way to court, before joining them later.
A little calmer, but feeling quite fragile, she brushed her teeth. Stripping off her clothes, she wondered if she had time for a shower. That might liven her up a bit. Not daring to risk angering her father for taking too long, she made do with a quick wash at the sink.
Wrapping a towel around her body, she dashed into her bedroom and grabbed some underwear, jeans, and a jumper. She dressed quickly, pulling on her trainers before hurrying downstairs, where her father was waiting in the hallway. He looked at his watch, then pointed toward the kitchen.
Trembling slightly, concerned she was in trouble, she headed through the doorway. “Sit down and eat,” he told her, indicating the bowl of fruit and yogurt on the table.
“I’m not really hungry, Daddy,” she said, trying a smile. “I’m a bit hungover, to be honest.”
His eyebrows rose once more and Megan rushed to the breakfast bar, dropping her butt onto the stool and picking up the spoon.
“You have a long day ahead of you,” he said, going to the cupboard and taking out a couple of soluble tablets. Dropping them into a glass, he added water and swirled it around. Megan watched him as she spooned a couple of orange segments into her mouth.
When the tablets were dissolved, he put the glass in front of her, pressing the flat of his hand against her forehead. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said, smiling and picking up the glass. She noticed he did not smile back. “I’m okay, Daddy, it’s just a hangover.” Taking his hand away, he moved across the kitchen and picked up his coffee. Her nose pinched between thumb and index finger, she swilled back the awful-tasting hangover cure. Sitting down opposite her, Megan’s father sipped from his mug, watching her over the rim, his brow furrowed.
“Is Mum almost ready?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“She’s gone out,” he said abruptly.
“Oh, is she not going shopping with me while you go to work?” she asked cheerily.
He stared at her for a moment, irritation in his expression. “No.”
“Oh, am I going shopping on my own or meeting Mum…” Megan stopped mid-sentence, as her father pushed back from the table and stood up. Leaning over her, his hands pressed against the table, he stared into her wide green eyes.
“Megan Teresa Miller,” he said, eerily calm. Megan gulped, aware that was the second time in half an hour he had used her full name. Generally that preceded a serious telling-off, or worse still, a spanking. “Are you going to eat your breakfast, or do I need to put some heat in your bottom?”
“No, Daddy,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed. Picking up her spoon, Megan shoved some grapefruit into her mouth and lowered her gaze. She continued to eat her breakfast, her heart racing as he loomed over her.
When she was finished, Megan glanced up at him. “Put your bowl in the sink, get your coat, and meet me in the car,” he ordered, turning on his heel and leaving the house, slamming the door behind him. Swallowing nervously, Megan followed his instructions, putting on her coat, scarf, and hat. It had been a really cold winter, and if she was going shopping she needed to wrap up well. Locking the front door, she headed toward the car, where her father sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead, his gloved hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.
Megan trembled as she got into the car, and it had little to do with the outside temperature. She wanted to ask her father why he was so angry, but was terrified what his reaction might be. So instead she climbed in beside him, buckled her seatbelt, and stared out at the road ahead.
It was an uncomfortable thirty-minute journey through the busy London traffic, neither of them speaking. It probably would have been quicker to walk the short distance, but her father insisted on driving his top-of-the-range BMW everywhere. She hoped he might drop her in town, but instead he drove direct to the court building where he worked, pulling into the car park and putting his vehicle into his own allocated space.
They got out of the car and he locked the door, turning and heading toward the imposing red-brick building. Megan cleared her throat, before breaking the awkward silence. “Daddy, where am I going while you’re in there?”
He stopped and stared at her. “You’re coming with me,” he snapped, marching toward the large glass doors, which slid silently open as he approached. Megan followed closely behind. He strode down the corridors, stopping at his office, unlocking the door and going inside. Standing in the doorway, she watched him, hardly daring to breathe, as he pulled on his long black gown and short grey wig. His own hair was short and grey and it generally made Megan giggle to see him put the curly wig on, but she had no reason to laugh today. If anything, he was even angrier than when they had left their home.
“Daddy, are you working today?” she asked, her voice trembling. She knew it was a stupid question, but she had to say something.
“Yes!” he snapped, yanking his desk drawer open and rummaging around inside.
“Daddy, have I done something wrong?” she asked, her lower lip trembling as tears pricked her eyes.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, he slammed the drawer shut and walked around the desk toward her. “You’ve let me down. You’ve let your mother down. But most of all, you’ve let yourself down.”
Grasping her by the wrist, he dragged her along the corridor, stopping outside of courtroom four. Turning to face her, he gazed into her eyes. “Megan, I am more disappointed in you than I ever thought possible.” She swallowed back a sob. Without another word, he pushed open the door of the courtroom and pulled her in behind him.
“Guards, restrain the defendant and put her in the dock,” he said. Megan gasped when two uniformed guards approached and grasped her arms, as her father headed to the platform at the front of the room. He climbed the steps and settled into his chair, in an elevated position behind the desk.
“No,” Megan protested, as the guards pulled her toward the dock. “Please, no.” She was horrified when they stopped, pulled her arms behind her back and snapped cuffs on her wrists. During her struggle, she noticed her mother, sitting in the gallery, shaking her head as she watched. “Megan, behave yourself,” she instructed.
“Mother, please, make this stop,” she pleaded. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done.” The older woman gazed at her, not an ounce of sympathy in her expression. Giving up the fight, Megan reluctantly allowed them to guide her to the small stand. She again thought of the incident the previous evening, but this was an over-the-top way of dealing with it. People did not appear in court for throwing eggs. The police would have arrested her if it was that, or more likely the dean would have contacted her parents. It must be something else. She racked her brains trying to come up with some other reason. She wondered briefly if it was a joke, but one look at her father’s face told her that was not the case.
“Megan, you just told your mother you don’t know what you’ve done. Is that really true?”
Opening her mouth, she was about to admit to her prank of the previous evening. She closed her mouth abruptly. If that was not the reason she was there, she would surely be digging herself into an even bigger hole. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.
“Speak up, I can’t hear you,” he said, banging his gavel on the desk. Megan jumped, but raised her voice when she spoke again. “Yes, it’s true. I have no idea what I could have done. Daddy, I’m scared. Is this a joke?”
His eyebrows rose. “A joke? Do you think this is funny?” His voice boomed and his eyes widened. Megan froze in fear. “Well, I don’t see anyone laughing, do you?” he asked.
He stared toward the gallery, where her mother sat. Megan looked over and her legs buckled. The guards grasped her elbows, steadying her. “Dr. Wilkie?” Megan said, the colour draining from her face. Dressed in a smart navy suit, with white shirt and red tie, the doctor lowered himself into the seat beside her mother. His lips were tightly pressed together, his arms folded across his chest. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he crossed his ankles and stared at her. He was handsome, in a rugged way, with his neatly trimmed beard and moustache, and short dark curls. “Oh, Dr. Wilkie, I’m so sorry. It was only a foolish prank. There’s no need for all of this. Please. I’ll clean your window.”
“Ah, so I see that’s jogged your memory,” her father said, banging his gavel once more. Turning to face the judge, Megan’s heart sank. Her chest tightened and her hands trembled. “Daddy, please, this isn’t necessary.”
“Oh, but it is, young lady. I received a phone call last night from Dr. Wilkie. I was appalled when he told me what you’d done. We brought you up to behave better than that.” Megan sighed and closed her eyes, recalling the ringing phone the previous evening. It must have been the doctor.
“Daddy, it wasn’t me.” Backed into a corner, she thought denial was the best option.
“Oh, Megan, don’t make this any worse by lying,” her father scolded. “You’ve already apologised to the doctor, yet now you tell me you aren’t the culprit. Which is it?”
Shoulders slumped and head hung low, Megan whispered, “It was me, Daddy, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you will be,” he said menacingly. “Believe me, you will be one sorry little girl when this is over.”
Megan shuddered and looked toward the doctor. “How did you know it was me?”
Dr. Wilkie rose to his feet and crossed the room, stopping in front of the dock and looking up at Megan. “I make it my business to know all of my students,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. His jacket sleeves tightened around his muscular biceps and Megan gulped. “Although your cap covered your hair, you looked up at my bedroom window and straight into the security camera. After you’d gone I checked it, and I recognised you immediately. Plus, you’re the only student on campus that I know of who wears such distinctive footwear.”
Looking down at her feet, Megan winced. Her glow in the dark, bright yellow trainers with their white soles would have been a dead giveaway. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that.
“Megan,” the doctor said, getting her attention once more. “This behaviour is totally out of character. You’re normally such a good girl.” Her cheeks flushed at the unexpected praise. “I considered informing the dean, but he might have expelled you, or at the very least suspended you. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I contemplated calling the police, but you have a promising career ahead of you. I don’t want to jeopardise that. I looked through your file and saw your father was one of the top judges in the city, so I contacted him.”
Megan looked toward her father. “Daddy, couldn’t you have just dealt with me at home?” She hated being spanked, but it was preferable to this nightmare. “Please don’t send me to jail, Daddy,” she pleaded. “I’ll go and clean the doctor’s windows. Please. I’ll do anything to make this better.”
Her father sighed and shook his head. “It isn’t my intention to send you to jail. You haven’t been arrested or charged, so I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to.” Megan breathed a sigh of relief.
“What I can do is teach you a lesson, to show you what could have happened if Dr. Wilkie had decided to call the police.” Megan lowered her head, ashamed of her foolish behaviour. “I want to give you a glimpse of what your future might hold, if you continue with such juvenile behaviour. I don’t want to be a killjoy and stop you having fun, but you need to realise the potential consequences if a prank gets out of control. Now, I want you to explain exactly what happened and why you acted so foolishly.”
Looking up, tears blurring her vision, Megan explained how she had gone out drinking with friends, then carried out a dare to throw eggs at the doctor’s window. She deliberately missed out the part about being asked if she had a crush on him. It was embarrassing enough without admitting she fancied him. Her father sat back in his chair, listening to her tale.
“Daddy, I realise now how foolish it was. I knew at the time it was a stupid thing to do, but I had to save face and carry out the dare. I swear I won’t do anything to let you down again,” she said, meaning every word.
“Princess, you let yourself down most of all.” Megan nodded, feeling some comfort when he used his pet name for her. It showed he had calmed down at least. “I know, Daddy, but I’m truly sorry.”
“You certainly will be sorry, because you are going to be punished.” Megan nodded and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Yes, Daddy.”
“I can see you think I’m going to take you home and smack your bottom.” Megan gasped and lowered her head. She knew he was trying to teach her a lesson, but he did not need to let the guards and the college doctor know that he was going to punish her. She would probably never see the guards again, but she would have to face the doctor at college, and she had no doubt in her mind that he would instantly recognise her after this.
“Well, that’s not going to happen this time.” Megan raised her head and looked hopeful. “You’re not off the hook,” he said. “When I spoke to Dr. Wilkie, I told him that had he reported the incident to the police, you would have appeared before one of my colleagues, where the likely sentence would have been a day in one of the city’s punishment clinics. I gave him some insight into what that would entail.”
Megan’s mouth hung open as she wondered what such a punishment would be like. She had heard about these places, which had been formed to deal with petty offenders toward the end of the twenty-first century.
“You’re fortunate,” her father continued. “Dr. Wilkie did not want to impose such a sentence on you, for fear it would harm your chances of finding employment, once you’re qualified to practice law.” Glancing toward Dr. Wilkie, Megan offered him a small smile of gratitude. She looked at her father and felt a pang of guilt. He had proudly told anyone who cared to listen that his daughter was following in his footsteps. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down.
“I swear to you, Daddy, I will make it up to you. I’ll…”
“Megan, let me finish.” His tone was scolding, but not unduly harsh.
“Sorry, Daddy.” Gazing intently at him, she hardly dared to breathe.
“If you were sentenced to the punishment clinic, a number of humiliating examinations and painful punishments would be inflicted on you, by a team led by a doctor. As Dr. Wilkie is a qualified practitioner, we have decided that he’s going to give you a taste of what you can expect if you decide to continue with such immature behaviour, which could ultimately ruin your future.”
Megan shook her head. She would never do anything so foolish again. “No, Daddy,” she protested, unwilling to agree to his sentence. “Please, there must be something else.”
He sighed and put his papers down on the desk. “Yes, I can take this through the proper channels, call the police in, hand you to one of my colleagues, and you’ll be sent to the punishment clinic. You might even be sent away to a nursery for a year, if the judge decides that would be more suitable. If your ridiculous behaviour continues, I’ll personally recommend that course of action.” Megan’s eyes widened. Surely they couldn’t do that.
“It’s up to you,” he said, raising his hands in the air. “I’m trying to help you, but if you refuse my help…”
“No, Daddy, I don’t want to be sent away.” She bit down on her lower lip, trying not to cry.
“So you accept my alternative sentence? You’ll go home with Dr. Wilkie today and accept punishment from him tomorrow?” Megan nodded in response. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, relieved when the handcuffs were removed and she was guided out of the dock. She avoided eye contact with the doctor, lowering her head. Her mother embraced her and told her to be good. When her father approached, he put his arm around her and guided her out to his car. She noticed the doctor had gone, and briefly hoped that the whole thing had just been set up to frighten her.
A bewildered Megan climbed into the back seat of the car, but her hopes of a reprieve were dashed when her father told her they were going to deliver her to the doctor’s home. The journey was again a long and silent one. When the car pulled up at the college gates, she said goodbye to her mother. She felt totally numb. Her father got out and took her hand, leading her to the doctor’s house. Looking around anxiously, she hoped no one would see them. She had no idea how she would explain it to any of her friends, if they were around to witness her being led to the doctor’s home.
“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” she said, as she stood in front of the house and gazed at the two eggs smeared down the window. Shaking his head, her father spun her round, bent her forward, and tucked her under his arm. He swatted her left buttock three times, very hard, repeating the treatment to her other cheek. Megan yelped at each contact of his hard hand. When he released her, she straightened up, blinked back tears, and gazed up at him. Reaching back, she cupped her stinging ass. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I love you so much. Please forgive me.”
For the first time that day, he smiled at her and held his arms out. She fell into them, hugging him. “I love you too, princess. I’ll always love you and I’ll always forgive you. This is for your own good. You’ll thank me in years to come, when this unfortunate episode hasn’t ruined your prospects. It hurts me to do this, but you need a short, sharp shock to pull you back into line. Be a good girl and I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Kissing the top of her head, her father released her.
Turning, she saw the doctor stood on his doorstep, leaning against the jamb. Her cheeks reddened as she wondered how long he had been there, and if he had witnessed her daddy spanking her. Sighing, she realised that before tomorrow was over, the doctor was probably going to be the one doing the spanking. She didn’t know much about the punishment clinics, but she did know that girls were spanked there. Before she had time to contemplate her fate further, her daddy nudged her forward.
“She’s all yours,” he said to the doctor. “I trust this will act as a suitable deterrent if she considers misbehaving in future,” he said, before turning and walking away.
Lowering her head, Megan was guided into the doctor’s house. She wanted to turn and run away, but knew that was not an option—at least not a sensible one.
“I am sorry,” she said, as the doctor helped her off with her coat. “I meant no harm.” He merely shook his head and hung her coat up. Turning back to face her, he grasped her chin in his hand and leaned close. Her heartbeat quickened and she swallowed anxiously. “You will be sorry, I’ll make certain of that,” he said, his other hand reaching round to gently pat her buttock. The meaning was not lost on her, and Megan’s cheeks flushed crimson.