Hi, my name is Roxanne, and I am twenty years old and at University, though I am home for the long summer vacation and am really not doing an awful lot with my time--except exploring something that has been on my mind for a couple of years or so.

I have medium length, blonde hair, and big, steel blue eyes. I'm five ten in height and slender build. When I was eighteen, in the spring before I started University, I got into a lot of trouble with the police. Actually I got caught shoplifting--which was damned stupid because I didn't need the iPod and could have paid for it anyway, but I took it off the stand without thinking, heard the alarms go and panicked--resulting in me fleeing the shop with the iPod in my hand and a posse of security guards in hot pursuit. I never had a chance and was escorted back to the shop, the police were called and my world went belly up!

As a result of this incident, my Daddy decided I needed to be taught some discipline. Now most fathers would ground their miscreant daughters for say a month and that would be the end of it, but my Daddy is made of sterner stuff and decided I was either going to have to move out of the family home or be disciplined with corporal punishment in front of Mummy. I had had a protected upbringing and had no job or significant sums of money of my own so I reluctantly agreed to him spanking me. I was doing my 'A' Level exams with the prospect of going to University--so I was still more or less totally dependent on my parents.

On the dreaded evening of my punishment, which had been meticulously planned by Daddy for some days in advance of it happening, I had been told to have a warm bath in advance of Daddy coming home from work. So, I spent an hour in the bathroom, wallowing in the foam, making sure I pampered myself. I used my little razor on my legs and trimmed my wild bush until it looked like it was cared for. Then I did my armpits. Then I towelled myself dry and put on some of my favourite perfume. Finally, as I had been instructed, I went to my bedroom and got dressed.

I was in my bedroom fiddling nervously with my hair when I heard the front door open and close and knew that Daddy was home for work. I knew that he would be a few minutes fixing a drink and chatting to Mummy. After a couple of minutes I stood up and looked at myself in the full length mirror, positioning my bottom in front of the glass and looking over my shoulder at my curves, wondering what my bottom would look like after Daddy had finished punishing me. I was sat back on the bed waiting for the dreaded moment to arrive when I heard Mummy come upstairs.

"Roxy, your father is ready for you. Be a good girl and take it like an adult. Afterwards, everything will be all right and we will all forget about your transgression, assuming you confess it at Mass next time you see Father O'Leary."

"I already confessed to Father O'Leary and done my penance. Mummy, will it really hurt me, what Daddy is going to do to me?" I asked, feeling more like a little girl than a grown woman. I knew damn well what the answer would be. Mother, had spent a lot of my younger days saying how she used to get punished by her parents and at school and how her bottom rarely went a week without some form of chastisement. Actually, she seemed to rue the fact that times had changed and the administration of corporal punishment had, more or less, been banished.

"Yes, it will hurt you," she said with gravity in her voice. "I was caned many a time at school when I was much younger than you and it really hurt me for several hours. Those memories have remained with me to this very day. The only thing I will say, as the teachers used to say in my days--this will hurt you a lot more than it hurts me, or in your case, your father, but you will get over it."

That statement made me almost want to run away, but I knew I had no choice. Slowly I stood up from my bed, brushed down my pleated school skirt and started what seemed like a long, slow walk down the stairs to my demise. Father was standing in the lounge with his glass of ice and whisky in his hand; the curtains were closed and the lights on. It was already getting dark outside but I figured Father had closed the curtains for the sake of privacy, something I was grateful for as I didn't want anyone walking down the road to see my bottom over the chair as while my ass was thrashed.

In the middle of the room was a chair from the dining room. It stood there silently, ominously, beckoning me to the moment of my demise. I trembled slightly as I looked despairingly at it, wondering bizarrely for a moment if it was the chair I sat on at table or the spare one. Indeed if it was my chair then it would have been fitting for every time from this day that I sat on it I would be reminded of the punishment I was about to receive.

"Okay Roxanne, as you know, I am going to give you ten strokes with my slipper on your bottom. You will bend over the chair and grab the front legs with your hands. I want your bottom as high up in the air as you can get it."

"Yes, father," I said demurely and added, "I really am sorry, you know."

"Yes, I know, but you are still going to be punished as a reminder not to do it again."

I was soon over the chair, my hands reaching forward to grab the legs.