From the Top Shelf - Daughter Swap

This is a short story by Simon Banks about how two fathers resolved the issue of dealing with 'grown-up' daughters. I hope you enjoy it.

Well, what do you do with an 18-year-old daughter who has got to the stage of telling her father that she's old enough to do what she likes? And what if that includes staying out all night with God-knows who? And not just one girl but two. Two close friends both still at school, Elaine Baxter and Tracy Watson.

What do you do if you are their fathers?

At least you can put your heads together, which is what Steven Baxter and Michael Watson, both in their early forties, were doing in the Pig's Head over a pint. Something had to be done - but what? It had been building up for a while but last night had been the end, when both men had waited up till after 1am before their daughters finally came home. And where had the girls been? "Just out, Dad," had been Elaine Baxter's answer while Tracy had informed her father, "You worry too much. I'm old enough to look after myself."

"We've got to do something," said Steve Baxter. He wiped the froth from his moustache.

"Yes but what?"

"Damn it, they both need a good caning!"

That was probably true. Tracy's father agreed but where were they going to get it? Certainly not at school, not the way schools were nowadays. "And, well," admitted Mike Watson, "I don't exactly fancy caning my own daughter. You know - properly."

He didn't dwell on what 'properly' meant but Steve Baxter knew exactly. He took another swallow of beer. He couldn't see himself caning his own shapely and decidedly nubile Elaine 'properly' either. It seemed sort of indecent somehow, though he'd be quite happy for someone else to to do it for him and inject some sense into her.

He suddenly looked up as if a revelation had suddenly struck him. "There is an answer of course. We could swap girls. You cane Elaine and I cane young Tracy."

Michael Watson's eyes gradually widened as the sheer beauty of the idea sank in. It was the obvious answer.

"Steven Baxter, you're a genius! You've hit on it! That's perfect!"

Steve Baxter grinned. "And of course obtaining parental approval won't be a problem."

"You're bloody right it won't!"

There was nothing like striking while the iron was hot when the offence was still fresh in the offenders minds. It was decided therefore that the next day, a Saturday, would be ideal. For one thing on Saturdays both wives would be out shopping, for the presence of their wives could well weaken the stern resolve this called for. And obtaining the necessary instruments of chastisement did not present a problem for, after leaving the pub, they went round to have a chat with old Jack Crabtree, a retired village schoolmaster.

The old gentleman produced a fine pair of nice, whippy rattans. It was about time, he said, that these two mementos of his teaching days came out of retirement and saw real action again. The three men laughed loudly. To two wayward girls it was all going to come as a very nasty shock.

* * *

Elaine Baxter first became aware that something was up when, after breakfast, her father told her he was taking her over to the Watsons'. Elaine, a very pretty blonde with a well filled out figure which this morning was on show in a tight pink T shirt and equally tight blue jeans, opened her eyes wide.

"But I'm not seeing Tracy this morning."

Her father simply said it was not Tracy she was to visit but Mr. Watson.

"Whatever for?" asked Elaine, mystified.

"You'll soon see," said her father sharply. "And remember whatever he tells you to do he has my full, unreserved authority."

That made it even more mystifying but she could get no more out of her dad. When they reached the Watsons house there stood an equally mystified Tracy waiting at the gate.

"What's all this about?" she'd wanted to know but got the same enigmatic "You'll see," from her father.

Very shortly Steven Baxter was driving back the way he had come, his passenger now not his own daughter but the equally attractive Tracy Watson.

"What's this all about, Mr. Baxter?" she asked yet again when the two of them were back inside the Baxter's sitting-room. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Steven Baxter gave her a thoughtful look. She was an attractive little piece all right, a gaminely pretty face framed by chestnut hair cut short, while down below her figure, fuller than his own daughter's, curved in all the right places in her pale blue sleeveless top and full black skirt.

"No it's not a joke, Tracy. It's about Thursday night. You and Elaine gallivanting about all over town."

"Oh that!"

"Yes, that. And for that young lady, you are going to get the cane. Across your bare bottom!"

Tracy stared at him..and a pink flush gradually suffused her cheeks. "You - you must be bloody joking!"

"No I'm not joking, Tracy. And I'd advise you not to use that kind of language to me. It's going to be six strokes of the cane. Six with your knickers down on your bare bottom. That's just the basic punishment. Then I shall want you to tell me what you were both doing on Thursday night and who you were with. If you refuse then there will be lots more of the cane on that undoubtedly pretty bottom of yours."

Tracy's face was now crimson. "No way! That-that's just ridiculous! Look if you try anything I-I'll tell my Mum."

Mr. Baxter laughed. "Your mother is not in the picture here, Tracy. This is a decision jointly taken by your father and me. And for your information he will currently be dishing out the same medicine to my Elaine. So please remove your skirt - and then slip your knickers down!"

"No!" she blurted, "I simply refuse!"

"Take your skirt off!" Steven growled, "Or I'll damn well do it myself. Or would you, on the other hand, like to be sent to an Approved School for six months because you are out of parental control? We could do that you know! And in those places they cane you twice a day!"

This was a product of Steven Baxter's vivid imagination but it sounded good. Or correspondingly horrible if you were the naive and gullible Tracy Watson.

"Look," she pleaded desperately, "isn't there something else?"

"No! It's the cane. Your Dad and I are quite adamant. You have to be taught a lesson."

Tracy looked at him, then up at the ceiling then down at the floor. And then, at last, cowed by his truly adult supremacy, her hands went to the waist of the black calf-length cotton skirt. Pops were unpopped. The skirt came down she she stepped out of it. Underneath, her ripely rounded hips and bottom were in a skimpy pair of brief blue knickers under transparent tights.

"Now get your tights and knickers down!"

"Look...this is just awful!" Her voice was cracking.

"Take them down!"

Tracy hesitated again, then turned her back but was sharply told to stay facing Mr. Baxter. Reluctantly the tights came down, to mid-thigh, and then even more reluctantly the brief knickers were slid down off the rounded hips. There was a well-developed bush of frizzy dark hair which she covered with her hand.

"This is simply awful!" Tracy wailed again.

"I know," he replied. "It's meant to be. Now let's see; let's have you over the arm of the big chair shall we?"

Tracy hobbled over to the chair and Mr. Baxter pushed her down so that her hips were up on the chair arm and the upper part of her body was down in the seat. The twin globes of Tracy's succulent rear were thrust sharply up to present a bewitching target.

Steven Baxter pushed one creamy thigh. "Open your legs!"

"No!" gurgled the half muffled voice.

"Yes! Do as you're told! This is a punishment, remember. And the more unpleasant it is the more you'll think twice about your behaviour in the future!"

He placed her feet as far apart as her lowered knickers and tights would stretch. It was a position which offered a very revealing view and Tracy knew it. She gave a groaning wail of embarrassment.

Steven Baxter now had Mr. Crabtree's cane in his hand. He gave it an experimental swish through the air, then tap-tapped it across the crests of the pouting bottom globes. There was an apprehensive hiss from Tracy. The cane was raised...

THWAAAAAAT!

It struck with juddering impact, momentarily sinking into the soft resilient flesh before springing back again. "Aeeeeeooooooowwww!" Tracy's anguished yelp resembled the cry of a cat in heat, her hands coming automatically back to clutch at her burning bum which now displayed a bright red double-edged stripe.

Steven Baxter whipped the cane lightly across the backs of the clutching hands. "Hands away or you'll get extra ones! Come on!"

The hands were reluctantly removed, the jerking bottom became somewhat less agitated. Again the cane was raised an whipped down.

THWAAAAAAT! Once more it bit sharply in, an inch lower than the first pulsing line. Another banshee yell from Tracy and a renewed frenzied dance of her ripe, round bum. From the depths of the chair seat came desperate cries.

"Stop, Mr. Baxter. Please stop! No more, you're killing me!"

Steve Baxter drank in the splendid sight of the now doubly-striped bottom, relishing his power over the nubile half-naked teenager. "You're getting six - just like I said!"

THWAAAAAAT! "Aeeeeooooooow!"

He'd laid the third into the exact curve where bum cheeks become plump upper thighs, a splendidly tender region which produced a correspondingly desperate reaction from young Tracy. How that must have hurt! He waited until her violent motion had subsided somewhat, and then went back up to the full crest of her bottom for the fourth.

THWAAAAAAT!

She was definitely sobbing now.

The final two Steve put in a nice cross, top left to lower right and vice versa. A cross on top of three transverse strokes, although he wasn't as accurate as he would have liked with the last of the six strokes. Then he let the cane fall to the floor. The girl's bottom, twitching and writhing, was an impressive sight and he felt he had done an excellent job. Gasping and sobbing, Tracy made no attempt to get up.

He reached out to pat the red-striped behind. "Come on, it's all over now. At least it is if you're sensible!"

He pulled Tracy to her feet, then put his arm round her. She was a nice kid at heart, or had been until this recent bout of teenage wildness. The sorrowful chestnut head reached his shoulders and her tear stained face was pressed into his shirt-front, quickly wetting it. He was conscious of a very full and warm pair of tits pressing into his chest too. Very nice! Steve Baxter patted her back, then one hand slid down to pat her bare and throbbing bum - at which she flinched and gasped.

"Now you're going to tell me what you and Elaine were up to."

She made a sound like "Nnngggghhh"

Steve Baxter backed towards the armchair taking Tracy with him. He sat down in the now vacant seat , as he did so twisting her round so she finished face down - and bottom up - over his lap. His left hand held her while his right slid softly and caressingly over the roasting bare bottom.

"You better tell me, Tracy, or I'll just have to continue your medicine!"

There was a silence and then, intermixed with sobs, it all came jerkily out. They had gone to a disco where two fellows had picked them up and taken them out in their car. Two horny young reps it seemed. According to Tracy's halting account nothing much had happened - yet. So they were planning to see them again, Steve wanted to know?

"Y-Yes..."

"No! Definitely not! You understand?"

She said nothing so he gave the bare bottom he had been stroking a sharp smack. "I said...understand?"

"Y-yes," she muttered, wincing.

His hand resumed its soft caresses. With a sniff Tracy whispered huskily, "You..you're awfully mean, Mr. Baxter..."

* * *

A little later Michael Watson arrived with Elaine. The two men had a brief private word. It seemed that things had gone just as well in the Watson household and soon Mike left with his daughter leaving Steve to talk to Elaine.

"Right," he said, "had a nice little lesson have you?"

Flushing bright red, Elaine pulled a face.

"Let's see what job he's made of it," Steve demanded, "take your pants down!"

Elaine tried to refuse but her father insisted. Reluctantly she slipped down her jeans and knickers as she had earlier reluctantly done for Michael Watson. Her bottom bore six transverse red stripes, not the same pattern as on Tracy's rear but the effect would have been equally painful.

"OK," he said. "That looks fine. Pull them up."

The two girls got together that afternoon at Tracy's house. It was nice and private for her parents had gone out. Up in Tracy's room the girls commiserated with each other over their dreadful experiences of the morning. They told each other how really terrible their fathers were as they contemplated the prospect of no more late night discos and the fact that they wouldn't be seeing their two young men again.

Then Tracy said, blushing brightly, "It was terrible...but it was a bit exciting, wasn't it!" And the two girls agreed that being caned by each other's father had been quite exciting, though very painful too. Awful and exciting all at the same time. Because men were men and both girls thought the other's father was rather attractive in an older man sort of way. And having to submit to them in that very shameful physical manner...well, the thought of it made a young 18-year-old girl feel a bit strange.

"Do you think," asked Elaine slowly with a shiver, "that they might want to do it again?"

"Crikey!" said Tracy, her mouth agape.

* * *

In fact the two men decided, a couple of evenings later in the Pig's Head, that a little reminder for the girls would be no bad thing. The short, sharp shock had obviously been excellent and a second dose could only improve matters. Indeed they were both agreed that more doses could, with advantage, be handed out at regular intervals for, although neither said so, each had found it a highly agreeable duty. For the second session though, it was decided that the cane could be dispensed with. A sound bare-bottom smacking would suffice.

Tracy and Elaine were both given prior warning this time of what was to take place on Saturday morning. There were looks and expressions of shock and indignation - while at the same time each felt a shiver of excitement. Indeed when the weekend arrived both girls prepared for their ordeal as if they were going out on a date; washing their hair the night before and, on the appointed morning, having a foam bath, putting on some scent, blusher and eye-shadow and, in Tracy's case, some pink lipstick as well.

Furthermore both Tracy and Elaine decided that if they were going to be forced to reveal what was underneath their skirts, then boring old tights would not be good enough. So they arrayed themselves in eye-catching nylons and suspender belts. Well if a girl was going to be forced into the indignity of baring her bottom for a man to spank it, then she just had to look her best!

This looks like a win-win situation for all concerned!