The Governor’s Daughter

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The Governor’s Daughter

Forward: There is much “dirty laundry” in history that we would rather forget.  For example; in the USA it was once a common “coming-of-age ritual” for young men of rich white families to use their slaves or black servants for sex.  Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States, is said to have fathered up to six children by one of his slaves.  In more recent USA history, a certain young law student fathered an illegitimate mixed-race daughter by a teenaged black family servant.  That man became a successful lawyer, was elected Governor, was known for his segregationist politics, and later became a senior US Senator.  Although he supported his daughter and quietly met with her, he never officially acknowledged her.  She never publicly named her father until after his death.  As with President Jefferson, this politician’s “dirty laundry” was an open secret.

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The Governor called it a “working lunch”.  They were seated in a tiny dining room near his official office.  The uniformed black waiters served them, and then were politely dismissed.  As usual, the table was set with real silver and expensive china.  A brown girl, who had been spirited thru a rear door of the governor’s mansion, sat across the table from the white patrician gentleman.  The slim, frankly beautiful, girl was wearing her best dress for the occasion, but looked distinctly uncomfortable and anxious.  The Governor’s meals were always good, but he noticed wryly that his mostly-black kitchen staff always outdid themselves when the brown girl joined him for lunch.  The girl always found it difficult to relax at these sessions, but today she squirmed with real unease and neglected her meal of prime rib and succulent fresh vegetables.  A transcript of her grades from the state university lay on the table.  
“What would your mother have done about this?” the governor asked gently.  At the mention of her mother, the girl’s eyes filled with tears.  Her mother had been dead for nearly four months now and Diane was having real trouble adjusting to a life alone and without the haven of a real home.  When her mother was first diagnosed, the best doctors in the state suddenly became available and all of her bills had been mysteriously paid.  Diane suspected that it had come from the Governor’s private finances.  But it was all for naught.  Despite everything, her mother declined and died.  The Governor, known for his segregationist politics, set tongues wagging by attending the funeral of the negro lady who was rumored to be the mother of his mixed-race unacknowledged love child, Diane.    
The question hung between them.  He handed her a handkerchief for her tears but he firmly persisted, “Well? What would she do?” 
She finally found her voice.  The girl wanted to scream, “You know damn well what Mamma would do”, but she actually said; “She would spank me sir”. 
“Go on,” urged the Governor “say it all.” 
She choked a bit and continued softly…”She’d have whipped be good, probably twice, once for each failed class, with a week between them for my bottom to heal.” 
The man bore in, none too gently, “And how would she have whipped you?” 
“On…on the bare, with the belt…hard and long.” The girl finally admitted. 
“Yes” the old man agreed, “That’s my guess too.  What about after that?  Would she send you go back to school to try again? …Or would she tell you to get a job to support yourself?” 
Diane sobbed for a moment and finally said, “I really don’t know what she would have done.  Nothing like this has ever happened before.” 
“It’s never happened before because you’re a bright girl who suddenly just quit trying” retorted the Governor.  “If you were working your butt off and still having trouble, I’d be on your side and get you whatever help you needed.” 
“Yes, I know” sobbed Diane, “I’m so sorry!”
The Governor handed her a fresh hanky.  “I’m about to offer you two choices, one easy one and one hard one.” 
“Here it comes,” Diane thought wryly, “the end of life as I know it.”
“First,” the Governor continued “I could get you a job that’s appropriate for someone who failed out of her first year of college, and see that you are set up in an apartment affordable on the modest pay that you will earn.  We can still visit occasionally. …Or, we can do it the hard way,” he said with a hardening expression, “The way I think your mother would want it.” 
  He stopped and looked at her, waiting for her to ask.
 “Wha…what’s that?” Diane finally asked, hopeful, but also afraid of the answer. 
“We could punish you like your mother would have punished you,” the Governor finally answered, “and then give you one last chance to succeed in college.”
Diane looked down at the tablecloth and answered simply in a tiny voice “OK”.  As she did, her buttocks clenched involuntarily and she felt a familiar feeling deep in her gut.
It was the Governor’s turn to dab at an eye.  “You made the right choice, I’m proud of you,” he said.  He unsuccessfully tried to disguise a sob as a cough and then finally spoke. “You know that I can’t do it myself, especially not here in the Governor’s mansion… spank you that is...”  She nodded miserably, she had already been wondering about that part.   He got right down to business; “Do you know where the state motor pool is?”
“I…I think so” she said in a questioning voice. 
“Assembly Avenue at Gervais Street” he said, “It looks like a big barn”. 
“I can find it,” she promised. 
He handed her a business card.  “Ask for Mr. Campbell.  He’s a friend and he will be expecting you.  Do precisely as he says.  I’m sure that you will take your punishment bravely.  You are to make up those two failed classes in the summer semester.  Mr. Campbell will deliver the punishment that you just agreed to, and then he will monitor your schoolwork on a weekly basis and report back to me.” 
“Yes sir” Diane said, “Thank you sir, you won’t be sorry you gave me this chance”.  She took the card and left; left as usual with neither a hug nor a kiss from the old gentleman.  Wiping a final tear from his eye, the Governor stood and walked into his office for his next appointment.  Neither of them had touched their lunch. 
The governor was an imperious old southern gentleman.  His youthful “indiscretion” that had produced Diane was an open secret, but the governor was sufficiently powerful to get away with it.  Naturally, he couldn’t officially acknowledge the girl because that would be a huge political embarrassment for this southern segregationist governor and an insult to his wife, so everybody maintained a polite silence.  But like the gentleman that he was, he quietly supported the girl and stayed in touch in a vague sort of way.  Afraid that the Governor would be obliged to withdraw support if he were ever forced to officially deny her, Diane could never admit who her father was, although everybody suspected.

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 Diane made her way out the back door of the governmental mansion and walked the several blocks down Columbia’s Richmond Street to the motor pool and to her presumed imminent punishment.  The walk gave her time to reflect on her bleak situation:  Simply put, Diane felt alone in the world.  For her entire life, her mother had been her anchor and her guiding light; but now she was gone.  Her father, the Governor, was not really a father to her at all.  Oh, he seemed to care a bit and was honest enough to support her, but he had never so much as hugged her.  At school she had no real friends.  The state college where Diane attended had been quietly (though tokenly) integrated a few years ago, so the Governor had seen that Diane was among the few non-whites admitted.  But Diane was a person who was accepted my neither culture.  The white students considered her black and were, at best, distantly polite;.  The few black students considered her white and excluded her from their clique.
Males from both cultures found her sexually exotic, but hardly marriage material.  So none remained interested once discovering she was no easy conquest.  Diane could handle these pressures when she had her mother’s support and a home to retreat to, but now she felt so terribly alone that she had been neglecting her schoolwork. 
Perhaps the Governor was being too hard on her.  Perhaps she just needed a bit more time to learn how to cope.  Or perhaps it was far kinder to give her the good “kick in the butt” she seemed to occasionally need to get herself back on the proper track.  Al least he had been thoughtful enough to leave the final decision up to Diane.
With the Governor’s directions and the address on the card, Diane found the motor pool compound.  Finding a black mechanic bent into the engine compartment of a huge car, she asked the whereabouts of Mr. Campbell. “He be in the office honey,” he said, turning back immediately to his work. 
She finally found a door marked “Administrative Office”.  Inside, she asked a clerk if this was the place to find Mr. Campbell.  “What’s your business with Mr. Campbell?” the clerk asked. 
“My fath… um…the Governor sent me to see him” Diane responded.  The clerk picked up the phone and spoke briefly to someone at the other end.  “Sit down over there and Mr. Campbell will see you shortly” the clerk said in a more kindly tone.
Mr. Andrew Campbell had been brought up here in the capital city.  Even as a youth, he was considered a promising young man (for a poor black that is).  After high school, his parents sent him to the state’s only black college, (which happened to be in the capital city) but they could only afford the first year.  After that, it was up to young Andy to work his own way through college.  Fortunately, he found a part-time job washing cars at the state motor pool that paid enough for a few classes.  Later, the job became full-time, so he had much less time for school.  Over the years, as his education slowly progressed, Andy held almost every job in the motor pool, driver, parts man, senior driver, clerk, and finally Assistant Superintendent.  It took him 8 years to finish college, but he excelled there.  In those 8 years in the state’s only black college, Andy came to know all of the state’s black “movers and shakers”.  In his position at work, Andy had access to the most important whites in the state, including the Governor himself. 
Although it was never intended, Andrew gradually became an important, though covert, cog in the wheel of state politics.  He carried messages from black leaders to the Governor, and conveyed “trial balloons” and other messages from the Governor back to the black leaders.  It was closest thing to enlightened racial politics that was possible for the times.  In exchange for the black vote, the Governor delivered advances to the black community while pretending to give them nothing.  In this way, Andrew’s state avoided much of the civil unrest that plagued other southern states in those turbulent times.  In the process, Andrew Campbell and the Governor became fast friends, so Andrew was promoted to Superintendent of the state motor pool after his white boss finally retired.  As a Superintendent, Andrew was among his state’s highest-ranking black employees.  Though virtually unknown, Andrew was de facto among the most important blacks in his state.   

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It seemed an eternity, but was probably only minutes later when the phone on the clerk’s desk rang.  “Mr. Campbell will see you now” the clerk announced, “Go right through that door Honey”.  As if in a fog, Diane followed directions to find herself in a large private office.  Behind a large desk sat a very large, kindly looking black man wearing a suit and tie.  He said nothing, simply looking at her as if his eyes could peer deep into her soul.  Finally, he stood, took her hand, and introduced himself.  The formalities over, he sat back down and regarded her again.  Finally he spoke: “Tell me why you’re here”. 
Diane’s eyes filled with tears.  “To…to…to be punished sir.” She finally managed. 
“Yes, the Governor spoke to me about you last night, but I want to hear it all directly from you.  Exactly how am I to punish you? 
“The Governor said I was to be spanked…t…t…twice.” She said. 
“There are all kinds of spankings.  Tell me more” Mr. Campbell probed. 
Tears ran freely down Diane’s cheeks, “With a belt sir…On the b…bare.” 
“You mean just two swats?” Mr. Campbell persisted. 
It was hard to say the words, but Diane dared not lie to someone who likely knew everything, “No sir, I’m supposed to get two hard spankings” she sobbed “As many swats as it takes.” 
“Please sit down,” the man finally said, indicating a plain chair in front of his desk.
“Now tell me why” he demanded. 
“Why sir?” she asked, momentarily puzzled.  “Yes Diane, why do you deserve to be punished?  Why should I spank your bare bottom?” 
Her eyes burned as they again brimmed with tears.  “Because I stopped trying in school”, she sobbed, “Because I wasted the Governor’s money by not even attending classes that he was paying for … because I seem to have lost my way”.  Those last words that she blurted out surprised even her.  She didn’t know there they came from, but truer words were never spoken.  Diane had lost her way.  Worse, she had no mother to show her the way, to show her the way by reddening her bottom if necessary!
With a shock, Diane realized that she found the prospect of being “taken in hand” surprisingly inviting.  She longed to have limits, to have the comfort of a parental figure to keep her on a safe path. 
“OK,” said Mr. Campbell, “let’s get started.”  “You are living in the college dorm?” 
She nodded. 
“Where do you live between semesters?” 
“I have nowhere else to go.” The girl explained.  She continued on with a slight lack of candor; “The dorm’s really OK, it’s nice and quiet there with school out of session.” 
Actually, she would have given anything to have a home to go to again. 
“One of my drivers will take you to your dorm.  Pack a few things.  You’re staying at least one night at my house.” 
She looked at him appraisingly. 
“Don’t worry,” he said, “Your virtue will be safe.  I’m happily married.  We have two daughters; one of them is your age and attends your college.  Perhaps you know Tricia Campbell?” 
Diane nodded in recognition; she was vaguely familiar with Tricia at school. 
“You’ll receive your first spanking tonight.  Normally spankings in our home are private, but since you’re not my daughter, either my wife or Tricia will be in the room.  Do you understand?” 
Diane nodded, but Mr. Campbell could see that everything was not OK.  He guessed what it was; “Don’t worry about Tricia blabbing about you at school.  If she values her bottom, your privacy will be safe.”  Diane breathed a sigh of relief.  Somehow, she felt at ease with this man, even though he was soon to spank her bare bottom until she howled and sobbed away what little would be left of her dignity.
Andrew had one more thing to explain: “You won’t be getting the belt.  I don’t suppose the Governor told you, but he made a special trip to my house last night to ask me and my wife Elizabeth to help him deal with you.  He’s very concerned about you.  He asked us to punish you exactly how your mother would have done it.  We agreed to help, but I explained that I’m more comfortable using our family’s hairbrush.  He ultimately approved.” 
Seeing the girl draw a mistaken sigh of relief, he quickly corrected her; “No, you don’t understand.  I spank long and hard, your bottom will be sore for several days.  Have you ever been spanked by a man?” 
She shook her head “no”. 
“I never met your mother, but I’ll bet I’m stronger than she was.  You’ll be a well-spanked girl tonight.” 
Diane shuddered. 
He continued, “Your second spanking will be in one week, but I might delay it further if your bottom hasn’t sufficiently healed from tonight’s punishment.” 
Suddenly, Diane felt butterflies in her stomach; she finally realized what she was in for!

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Soon Diane was riding to the college to collect her things, driven in a government limousine by a kindly and slightly curious driver.  All too soon, Diane was again waiting in Mr. Campbell’s outer office, her bag of “things” at her feet.  At the stroke of five, Mr. Campbell came striding out of his office, said his goodbyes to his staff, took Diane’s bag, and led her to his car, a meticulously maintained 1950 Cadillac. 
Fortunately, it was a short trip.  Diane was desperately trying to figure out what small talk to make with a stranger who is about to give you a bare-assed spanking, but Mr. Campbell seemed to be deep in thought.  Diane noted that they were driving to those nebulous few blocks of well-maintained homes located in the area of the capitol city where the colored neighborhoods blend into the white neighborhoods.  She knew that this is the area where the black doctors, lawyers, businessmen, and professors live.  Finally they turned towards a stately house and drove directly into the garage.  As they walked through a doorway leading from the garage into a large kitchen, wonderful smells assaulted her senses and made her remember that she had skipped lunch.  Mrs. Campbell put the lid back on a pot, introduced herself to Diane and welcomed her with a hug.  Shortly thereafter, Tricia and Jane arrived home and were introduced by their father.  Sure enough, Tricia and Diane already were slightly acquainted from school.
Diane noticed immediately that Tricia seemed sort of quiet.  She at first took it to be unfriendliness, a treatment the half-black Diane was used to receiving from both black and white peers, but Diane was sensitive enough to eventually realize that something was bothering Tricia, something that had nothing to do with her. 
Mrs. Campbell called for everybody to wash for supper and asked for help to bring the food to the table.  Happy for something to break the tension, Diane jumped in to help.   
At supper, Diane enjoyed the cozy feeling of being surrounded by family, albeit someone else’s family, but still felt tension.  Noticing that Tricia was quiet, but Jane was chattering away unconcerned, Diane deduced that Tricia must be in some sort of trouble. 
Finally, Mr. Campbell took advantage of an awkward pause in the conversation to formally welcome Dian to “the humble Campbell home” and announced to his daughters that Diane would be spending the night and possibly the entire weekend.  “Tricia” he asked ‘would you please make Diane comfortable in the spare bed in your bedroom?”  Tricia looked at her father with an almost a hopeful question in her eyes; “Dad?” She said “Does that mean I don’t have to …er… go to bed early tonight?” (“Going to bed early” was Campbell family code for “bedtime spanking”)   
“No” said Mr. Campbell “you’re ‘going to bed early’ tonight, and Diane is going to be up there with you when it happens.”  He secretly treasured the incredulous look on his daughter’s face, then continued, “But don’t worry, Diane is ’going to bed early’ also.” 
Tricia stammered, “You mean…?”
Mr. Campbell cut off his daughter’s question, “You two help mother with the dishes and then go up to your room, I am sure that Diane will fill you in on the details.”      
All too soon, the girls were almost done helping their mother with the dishes.  Mrs. Campbell told the girls to go upstairs to “get ready for father”.  “Please show Diane how we do that Tricia, there’s a spare robe in your closet”.  Tricia pouted, “Yes mommy”.
Up in the room, the girls finally got to compare notes.  “Yes” Diane admitted, she really was supposed to get a spanking from Mr. Campbell.  It seems that they were both in trouble over their final grades.  Tricia had received an “Incomplete” in American History because she hadn’t yet completed her research paper.  The problem was Tricia’s tendency to procrastinate, coupled with a lack of focus and some last-minute writer’s block.  She had tried to “pull an all-nighter” to get the paper written at the last minute, but when the night was finished, the paper wasn’t.  Now she was about to get a spanking for her lack of effort and procrastination.  “I’m getting a hand spanking tonight and believe me, that’s bad enough.  Also, the Professor will mark down my paper at least one full grade for being late.  If I don’t have a satisfactory paper turned in by next Friday, it will be the hairbrush for me.” Tricia sobbed. 
“That’s what I am going to get” Diane blurted out.  Tricia looked at Diane incredulously, “You’re joking!  You’re going to get the hairbrush from Dad?  Why?”  
“Because I sort of stopped trying in school and, skipped a bunch of classes and then failed two subjects.” Diane admitted.
Tricia didn’t want to pry too much, but finally her curiosity got the best of her: “Wanna tell my why my father is punishing you instead of your own parents?”  She was immediately sorry she had asked when Diane’s eyes suddenly filled with tears.
“I…I…don’t really have a family any more,” Diane said “I have sort of a…mentor…and he asked Mr. Campbell to punish me because he can’t do it himself.”  Tricia’s eyes grew wide in recognition, “Oh I know who you are now!  Is it really true who your father is?” 
As she had done all her life, Diane deftly deflected the question and then quickly changed the subject: “The Governor is a friend of my family. Say; didn’t your mother say something about ‘getting ready’ or something?” 
Tricia deflated a bit as the subject returned to their imminent punishment.  “OK, we should talk about that.  First, daddy won’t be up here until about 8:30.  This is supposed to be our “thinking” time.  He says that the wait makes us remember our punishment better.  All we really MUST do before he arrives is move that desk chair to the middle of the room.  I guess you know what he’ll use THAT for.” 
“Yes” said Diane, “That’s not hard to figure.” 
“He always makes a big thing about making sure that we know why we are being punished; so there’s always a little ‘talk”. 
“Yep”, interjected Diane, “just like my mom so far.” 
“And then, whichever one of us goes first (I hope it’s me) has to get bare, and we have a special rule about that part” 
“What do you mean” asked Diane with a growing apprehension. 
“Actually, it’s my mother’s rule, but father enforces it.  Specifically; nothing can get in the way of Dad’s “work area”.  She says that it’s sort of a sign of respect to Dad.  We must be totally ready for our punishment and that means being truly bare for it.  It shows that we’re sorry and are ready for our punishment.” 
“Are you saying that we have to get naked?” Diane asked wide-eyed. 
“Not exactly naked” Tricia explained, “His job is to spank us, and nothing should get in the way.  Specifically, the rule is that no clothing below your bellybutton or above your socks.  So no panties.  Basically, that means you’re allowed to wear a very short top and socks if you want.  Usually, I just wear a bra.” 
“Your mother said something about a robe” Diane probed.  “Oh that’s because it’s less embarrassing to get undressed ahead of time.  You can do a strip-tease in front of dad if you want, but I’d rather just slip off my robe and lay over his lap, wouldn’t you?”  Tricia continued helpfully, “Usually he’s even polite enough to look away while you do that, so he doesn’t see your front.” 
Diane only considered that for a second, “You’ve convinced me, where’s that extra robe?                                
As Tricia searched her packed closet for the spare robe, a question occurred to Diane, “What about after the spanking, when you get up off of his lap?  Doesn’t he see everything then?” 
Tricia’s voice quivered a bit as she answered, “Probably; but by then you won’t care.  My father spanks HARD and LONG!  We’re both really in for it.  To be honest, I’m not brave about these things.”  Both girls sat in glum silence for a moment before Tricia finally continued.  “…And speaking of all that, let’s get our showers now; we won’t feel like it later.  Do you want to go first or do you need time to get organized?” 
“Would you unzip my dress and get your shower while I undress? “ Diane asked.  “I’m wearing this fancy stuff because I had to meet with my mentor about my grades.” 
Downstairs, Mr. & Mrs. Campbell were sitting quietly in the living room.  Mrs. Campbell, having noticed that her husband hadn’t turned the page of his newspaper for several minutes finally probed; “Looks like you’ve got a job ahead of you tonight Andy.”  He sighed, “Liz, I’m not looking forward to this.  If anything, Tricia is getting off easy, but I don’t feel good about punishing Diane.” 
“I think I know what you’re thinking” Elizabeth said, “Diane is having trouble adjusting because her mother died so spanking her for that just doesn’t feel right to you.”  “Yes”, Mr. Campbell said, “that’s part of it.” 
Elizabeth thought for a moment, and finally offered, “Ideally Diane would have had a family to see her problem earlier and to keep this from happening, but it just wasn’t there for her.  Now the kindest thing is to get her back on track, even if it hurts her bottom.” 
“When you put it that way, I guess it’s hard to argue, but there’s another…more personal… issue” Mr. Campbell said, looking around the room to ensure privacy.  “You know that you’re the only female I would ever touch ‘that way’, and that Diane is just as safe around me as my daughters are, but…um… every part of my body doesn’t know that.  I’m pretty much immune to our daughters charms, but when Diane bares herself for her punishment I’m afraid of, err, shall we say…an inappropriate physical reaction.
 Elizabeth grinned lovingly at her husband, stood, and took his hand.  “I know just how to deal with that problem.” she purred, leading him into the master bedroom.
We needn’t dwell on the action in the master bedroom after the door closed behind the couple, but suffice to say that their daughters would have been shocked had they known.  For some strange reason, teens always prefer imagining their parents celibate.
It was nearly an hour later when Andy and Elizabeth finally re-emerged from their bedroom.  Both were freshly showered.  Elizabeth was wearing a bathrobe, and Andy had exchanged his suit for more comfortable clothes.  For the first time that evening, Mr. Campbell seemed truly relaxed.  In fact, they were both grinning like Cheshire cats.  The couple sat in the kitchen over coffee as they gradually shifted back into “parent mode” and discussed Tricia and Diane’s problems plus Andy’s looming task.     
Upstairs, the girls had finished their showers, donned their robes with virtually nothing underneath, and placed the dreaded spanking chair in the middle of the room.  At first an awkward silence hung between the two girls.  After all, even though both were waiting to be punished, they were nearly strangers.  Diane broke the ice by asking Tricia about her “problem” school assignment.  Soon they were deep into discussion about how the paper could be improved, perhaps even how it could earn a top grade.  Since Diane had no plans for the following week, she volunteered to help with the research, proofread, and even type. (Personal computers were decades in the future)  Finally, talk turned to boys, food, clothes, and other “girly” things.  Over the next hour, the girls became fast friends.  It was well after 8 when the conversation trailed off as the girls individually realized that their punishments were near.  Diane was dry-eyed but quiet, but Tricia started sobbing quietly.  Diane put a calming arm around Tricia. 
“I wish my bottom was hurting so much right now that I couldn’t sit” said Tricia.  
“Why” asked Diane, momentarily puzzled.  “Because then my spanking would be over, of course,” said Tricia. 
“Will your hand spanking really be that bad?” asked Diane. 
“They always are” said Tricia, “My dad doesn’t spank often, but he really spanks hard.” 
Diane only had a few minutes to reflect on how much worse her own bottom was going to feel after a thorough treatment from the Campbell family hairbrush.        
It was a little after eight thirty PM, when the girls heard steps outside their room.  It was time for the girl’s bottoms to meet their fate.  Diane was almost relieved that the waiting was over.    Tricia whimpered as the doorknob turned.  Mr. Campbell entered without knocking.  In his large hand was an even larger ivory hairbrush.  At the sight of that brush, Diane’s guts tightened into a ball, she felt her knees get weak and she could hear blood rushing inside her head.  The whole world seemed to revolve around that hairbrush!  Years later, Diane would be able to picture that old yellowed hairbrush in minute detail.  The thing must have warmed many generations of bottoms.  It had a few hairline cracks that had turned black over the decades.  They apparently didn’t impair its main function.  She imagined that its surface sheen came from countless impacts with countless bottoms.  She even noticed that there wasn’t a single hair entangled in the old bristles.  Apparently nobody used it to actually brush hair.  Diane’s focus finally widened to include Mr. Campbell, now seated in his chair.
Mr. Campbell’s “talk” was surprisingly short.  He noted the coincidence that these two girls who barely knew each other this morning were now getting spanked together for much the same offense.  He carefully explained that neither of the girls was being spanked simply for bad grades, he said that he would never do that.  Rather, they were both being punished for lack of effort.  He also pointed out that Tricia had been less than honest with her parents by not telling them that she was behind in her work.  “Next time, that sort of untruthful behavior will be punished as if you had told us a direct lie” he warned.  He then turned his attention to Diane, and told her that skipping classes and assignments was totally inexcusable, even though he realized that she was going through a tough time in her life.  Then after a pause, he told her that he wished that he had had a chance to meet her a long time ago because he was really impressed with her so far.  “I hope you don’t hate me just because it’s my job to punish you and monitor your schoolwork” he said.
At this, Diane finally dissolved into tears, “I already like you Mr. Campbell and I can see that both your daughters love you very much.  Why would I hate you for acting like a father?” she managed to blubber out. 
“Thank you,” Andy replied, with a bit of surprise in his voice “that really makes me feel better about this whole thing.  There was a period of silence when all three seemed lost in their individual thoughts.  All that could be heard was the two girls sniffling.  Finally Mr. Campbell started rolling up his right shirtsleeve and broke the silence with an ominous question, “Are there any questions before we begin?”  There were none, but Tricia, who had been merely leaking tears, started openly sobbing. 
Mr. Campbell gently asked Diane an unexpected question that presented her with a moral dilemma: “Diane, you’re the guest here; do you wish to be first or second?”   Although Diane would really have rather gone first to end the terrible anticipation of her looming punishment, Tricia had mentioned more than once that she would like to “get it over with” first.  However, Tricia’s face was now a frightened mask, certainly not the face of somebody who was ready for a spanking.  Finally, Diane reasoned that as scared as Tricia was now, she would be even more so if she had to wait longer.  Diane took a deep breath and asked if she could please go second after Tricia.
Tricia’s sobbing turned to blubbering when she heard Diane’s decision.  Her father motioned for his daughter to stand at his right thigh.  At first, Tricia backed away from her father, her bottom lip quivering in fright.  For a terrible moment, Diane thought that Tricia was going to refuse, but she finally obeyed her father.  “You know what to do Tricia,” he said firmly, and then in a deliberate gesture, he turned his head to the left, giving her a moment of relative privacy.  Still sobbing openly, Tricia used the privacy to unbutton her robe, shrug it off, and reluctantly climb into position across her father’s lap.  She automatically placed her right hand just above her clenching bottom so her father could immobilize it.  As soon as Tricia was in position, nearly naked and helpless across her father’s lap, her sobs turned into room-filling cries as if she were already being spanked.  Diane thought at first that Tricia’s “spankless crying” was surprisingly babyish, but then she witnessed Mr. Campbell’s first spanks bouncing off of Tricia’s heaving bottom, and realized that Tricia had simply known exactly what to expect.
Mr. Campbell took a glance at his watch, and then started to work.  Usually, when a parent spanks a child, the first spanks are mild, and then are gradually delivered harder and harder and faster and faster so that the last few spanks are the hardest and the fastest of all.  Diane was surprised to notice that Mr. Campbell spanked Tricia “backwards”.  That is; the hardest, fastest spanks were the very first spanks.  These first spanks were so hard that their sound actually hurt Diane’s ears in the closed confines of the bedroom.  Mr. Campbell raised his hand well over his head and brought it down with awesome force, flattening the targeted buttock and actually pushing Tricia’s hips repeatedly down into his lap.  While the spanks themselves could surely be heard throughout the house, Tricia’s screech must have been audible to the neighbors!
As Mr. Campbell spanked, he gave his daughter his full attention and had, momentarily, forgotten that Diane was even in the room.  At it turned out, Diane was standing, awkward and slack-jawed, barely three feet directly behind Tricia’s heaving, bouncing, jiggling bottom.  Near the end of those first, hardest, spanks, Tricia’s legs scissored wide apart.  Diane’s face turned bright red; Tricia was displaying everything she had!  Further, there was no way that Mr. Campbell could avoid seeing it.  Diane wondered if she would soon be displaying herself the same way.  But another thought soon crowded that one aside. Tricia’s spread-apart legs had managed to frame the large white ivory hairbrush that was lying on the floor next to Mr. Campbell’s chair, which reminded Diane exactly why it was there and whose bottom was soon to feel it.  Diane’s mouth turned dry and her guts twisted anew as she realized the magnitude of the spanking she would be momentarily be receiving over that same lap.  Tricia was “only” getting a hand spanking; Diane was due for that hairbrush!   
After the first ten brutal spanks, Tricia’s spanking settled down to one that most would judge as merely “very hard”.  During those first ten “bruisers”, Tricia had voiced a loud howl, which quickly rose up the scale to become a howl of agony and then a full-fledged screech, but now she uttered an uneven series of cries, grunts and howls as her father settled into the main part of her spanking.  Mr. Campbell spanked with a studied randomness that kept Tricia totally off balance.  His spanks were random in pacing, with sometimes up to three right together, but sometimes with significant pauses between individual spanks.  The target area was also random; Tricia never had any idea where on her bottom the next spank would land. Further, the spanks were even random in power, sometimes very severe, and sometimes a mere “pop”.  There was none of the usual begging, and pleading that one usually hears from a child receiving a sound spanking, there were also none of those usual frenzied promises of perpetually perfect future behavior that spanked children offer.  There was none of that because those first, almost brutal, spanks had immediately pushed Tricia into incoherence, then Mr. Campbell expertly kept up the pressure on his already very sorry daughter.  As the spanking continued, the bare-assed girl kicked, squealed, twisted and bucked, but Mr. Campbell seemed to take no notice, simply continuing, like some sort of automaton.  Once or twice, during the longer pauses, Diane noticed Mr. Campbell twist his wrist slightly to check his watch.  She guessed that he had some minimum duration in mind for the spanking to ensure that Tricia got a full measure of punishment.  Diane wondered glumly how long her own punishment was supposed to last. 
Finally Tricia started to respond less to the spanks raining down on her buttocks.  Her bawling continued, but her movements were distinctly less.  Mr. Campbell must have noticed and apparently took this as a signal that Tricia had been punished enough.  He took a quick glance at his watch, nodded to himself, and ended the spanking with ten quick spanks that were easily harder than any delivered recently.  He kept his bawling daughter over his lap for a further two minutes, keeping her in suspense by doing nothing to indicate that her spanking was over.  Finally he released her hand, bent over his daughter, and whispered a few gentle words in her ear.  It was finally over for Tricia.  Diane knew that it must soon be her turn.
But first, she really needed to go to the bathroom!
Mr. Campbell finally urged the still-bawling Tricia to get up on her feet.  Oblivious to her state of undress, Tricia pranced in front of her father while feeling her bottom gingerly.  Tricia was a mess, her eyes were wet and puffy, her nose was running, and she was crying and hiccupping at the same time.  Responding to the open-armed invitation of her father, the nearly naked girl climbed back up into his lap, put her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his shoulder for a long cry. 
Diane could wait no longer; “Mr. Campbell?” she finally asked “May I please go to the bathroom?” 
Looking past his daughter, Andy looked at Diane appraisingly, “Didn’t you have plenty of time to do that before?” he asked, “Why now?” 
Diane answered with a frantic plea that almost convinced him, “It just happened while you were…I mean...when Tricia was getting…I REALLY have to go Mr. Campbell!”  “OK, I will have to believe you,” decided Andy, “But I can’t take a chance on you running off on me.  Are all of your clothes here in this room?” he asked.  “Yes sir” she replied.  “If you are going to leave my sight before you get your punishment, leave that bathrobe here so I know that you’ll not be tempted to leave the house.” 
“Thank you Mr. Campbell,” Diane breathed as she shrugged her way out of the bathrobe and left in a pile next to the chair.  Andy glanced at the girl just long enough to ascertain that she was sufficiently bare, and then turned his attention back to his daughter.  Clothed only in a bra, Diane rushed out of the room, heading straight for the bathroom.     
Two minutes later, Diane returned, looking greatly relieved.  She closed the door behind her and, with Mr. Campbell studiously ignoring her nearly naked body, picked up her robe.  Knowing that the robe was coming off again momentarily, Diane merely draped it over her shoulders and wrapped it around herself and then stood quietly behind Mr. Campbell’s chair, waiting for him to finish comforting his daughter. 
After what seemed like an eternity, the man urged his daughter off his lap.  She stood there for a moment sniffling and rubbing her bottom, looking distinctly childlike.  “Tricia” he said, “remember that you must submit a satisfactory paper by Friday, or you, me, and this hairbrush will have an appointment to keep.”  That seemed to snap Tricia out of her trance. 
“Yes Daddy”, she promised earnestly, “It will be a good paper and I will be done by Friday morning, Diane even offered to help me.” 
“That’s very nice of her,” Mr. Campbell said with honest pleasure, “But remember that the paper you turn in must be your own work.” 
“I know Daddy,” Tricia explained, “Diane said she would help with the proofreading and the typing, but I’ll do the writing.” 
“That sounds like a real good plan,” enthused Mr. Campbell, “Why don’t you invite Diane to spend the week with us?  That will give you two more time together.”
Forgetting her own sore bottom, and Diane’s impending spanking for just a moment, Tricia looked at Diane beseechingly. 
“That would be a nice break from the dormitory,” Diane finally conceded “Thanks’, I would like that”.
Impulsively, the still nearly naked Tricia hugged Diane.  “Thanks Diane, I was really worried about that paper.  Now I have a lot more confidence.”  Diane smiled a bit and returned the hug. 
Tricia’s sobs returned a bit as her father led her to her bed.  He peeled the covers back and she lay facedown on the bed.  He covered his daughter with just a sheet and gave her a peck on her still-wet cheek.  “Your mother will be up with some skin cream for both of you as soon as I finish with Diane,” he promised.
Without another word, the father sat back down in the straight back chair and looked directly at Diane, who stepped back and looked back at him like a mouse looks at a snake.  They locked eyes for a moment. 
“Well Diane,” Mr. Campbell said with a husky voice, “Are you ready to get your first spanking over with?” 
“I…I guess so sir” the girl replied unsteadily. 
“OK, then,” he said in a businesslike voice, “Stand in front of me and explain exactly why you are being punished.”        
Fresh tears erupted from Diane’s eyes and her gut twisted again, but she managed to get out the words, “Because…because I stopped trying in school, and didn’t do my assignments, and cut a bunch of classes, and failed two of my subjects and almost got myself kicked out of the University and…and almost ruined the rest of my life.” 
“That’s very good,” Mr. Campbell added helpfully, “but you also seriously disappointed the Gov…, err…I mean your mentor and you know that your mother wouldn’t be pleased if she were still alive.”  Those words almost ended the conversation, because Diane put her face in her hands and sobbed freely.  In a much kinder voice Andy urged, “Please calm down and look at me Diane.  I know this is hard for you, but I must be sure that everything is clear before we start your punishment.”  With difficulty, Diane raised her wet face out of her hands and looked into a tear-blurred version of Mr. Campbell’s face.  Seeing that he again had her attention, he said, “You understand that you are not being spanked for low grades, right?  I wouldn’t do that to you even for the Governor.” 
“Yes Sir,” she said, “I understand.  This is about my behavior, not my grades.” 
“Good,” he said, “I needed to be sure that part was clear.”             
It was obvious to Diane that her spanking was imminent.  She was a scared girl!  Her knees felt weak and shaky, her teeth chattered, she couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with her suddenly sweaty hands, and she felt almost like she needed to pee again.  Andy could see that the girl was suffering terribly, even though he hadn’t yet touched her.  “OK, just a couple of quick things before we start, so we are both clear on what is going to happen and what is expected of you.”  The girl nodded, telling him that she was paying attention; “You are gong to get the first half of your punishment momentarily, and it will leave your bottom sore for the next few days.”  With fresh tears flooding her face, Diane nodded again; “I hate to make you wait, but next Friday evening, one week from today, you’ll get your second spanking, assuming that your bottom has healed sufficiently.”
“Yes sir,” Diane acknowledged soberly. 
“Until then, you’re on your own, but I hope you will stay here with us and let us care for you and keep you busy so your waiting won’t be so bad, but in any case I expect you to be here next Friday evening in time for supper and the rest of your punishment.” 
“Yes sir, thank you sir:” the girl blubbered.        
“OK,” Mr. Campbell said pointing to the floor next to him, “come around to my right side. ‘  On wobbly legs, the girl obeyed.  As she did, she eyed the hairbrush lying on the floor next to the chair.  Perhaps because of that feared hairbrush, the girl ended up a bit too far away from his lap, so Mr. Campbell gently took Diane’s forearm and guided her closer, nearly against his right hip.  “Drop your robe and bend over into position,” He ordered, as he deliberately and gallantly turned his gaze away from her body.  He sensed, more than heard the girl unwrap robe, drop it to the floor, and then he felt the pressure on his lap as the girl laid herself into position for her punishment.       
Mr. Campbell finally looked down, looking directly at the nearly naked girl for the first time.  In a moment of slightly guilty self-indulgence, the man reflected that the girl’s body was every bit as stunning as he had expected.  Placing his hands gingerly on her hips, he adjusted her position slightly, putting her bare bottom in exactly the perfect position so his arm could impart the maximum blow.  Her toes dug into the carpet, and he watched her bottom cheeks clench in unhappy anticipation.  “Honey,” he asked gently, “Put your right hand in the small of your back so I can hold it for you.”  There was a delay while her overloaded brain processed the request, but finally the girl complied.  Andy grasped the girl’s wrist and pressed down firmly to pin Diane’s torso in place.  Without further warning or delay, Mr. Campbell’s right hand raised up over his head and pistoned down, landing in the meatiest part of Diane’s right buttock.  Downstairs, Mrs. Campbell and Jane easily heard the first spank, and then they heard two more loud spanks before Diane was able to fill her shocked lungs sufficiently to generate a proper shriek.  As he had with Tricia, Andy started the spanking with 10 very hard spanks.  This was Andy’s normal strategy, the intent was always to start the punishment with a “bang” and instantly induce tears.   Although Diane would have sworn differently, those first spanks were actually not as hard as the ones that had started Tricia’s spanking.  Unlike Tricia’s spanking, Diane’s first spanks were intended to hurt like the dickens, but not bruise.  For Diane, the bruising would come later with the hairbrush, but first she had to suffer through a long, hard, hand spanking.    
Except for those first few spanks that weren’t quite as hard as those suffered earlier by Tricia, Diane’s spanking proceeded as a carbon copy of Tricia’s.  At first, he was a little put off by the kaleidoscope of colors that he was witnessing on Diane’s bottom.  The instant he raised his hand after a spank, he would see a white handprint, which would almost instantly turn red.  The milk chocolate skin of Diane’s bottom got redder and redder as he spanked.  At first, he was concerned, but then he realized that this was the first time he had spanked a bottom that wasn’t totally black skinned.  Reassured, he continued on with his work.
As promised, it was a severe spanking.  Diane was no more able to keep from howling, squirming, and kicking than Tricia had earlier.  Near the end of that first barrage of ten severe spanks, Diane forgot herself and allowed her legs to splay wide, giving Mr. Campbell a rear view of Diane’s womanly charms that is usually reserved for husbands and occasionally for medical doctors.  Although he did not slack in his duty, he viewed the scenery with secret guilty pleasure.  Just as he had before, Mr. Campbell glanced at his watch once or twice during the ensuing spanking to make sure that Diane got a full measure of punishment.  Finally, Diane dimly realized that she was no longer being spanked.     
The first spanks had been so hard, that Diane didn’t realize that Mr. Campbell had been just using his hand.  Therefore, the red-bottomed, loudly crying girl had no reason to believe that her spanking wasn’t over.  Far worse, Diane had no reason to suspect that the worst part of her spanking was still ahead!  Tricia, on the other hand, knew better. Unable to look away, Tricia had turned her head to watch Diane’s spanking from her bed, but now she buried her face and covered her head with her pillow to muffle the shrieks that she knew that nasty hairbrush would drag from Diane’s lips.   
Not having Tricia’s experience with Campbell family punishments, Diane’s spank-numbed brain noticed, but assigned no special significance when she felt Mr. Campbell shift slightly on the hard-backed chair and seem to reach down to the floor.  When she heard Mr. Campbell speak, she knew that it must be important, but she just couldn’t relate his words to her own already-scorched bottom.  He said something like this: “…this is going to really hurt, but I want you to think about why you are being punished.  Are you listening Diane? …Diane?”   Even though she didn’t totally understand, Diane managed to nod convincingly enough for Andy to proceed.  She felt him shift under her again, and then felt his leg firmly pin her two legs down.  Next, she felt him redouble the firmness of his grip on her wrist and increase the downward pressure that was already keeping her torso firmly captive over his left leg. 
“Ok, here goes,” he said in a tense voice.   
Mr. Campbell truly hated to do this to anyone, but he gritted his teeth and started.  As the girl screamed, twisted and bucked, he methodically used that hairbrush to mark her entire bottom with a series of bruises that she would be feeling for several days to come.   Every time the brush landed, it made sort of a “splash” in her firm flesh, with ripples radiating from the point of impact.   
The hairbrush portion of the punishment probably took no more than a minute.  Andy had real tears in his eyes when he finished.  He held Diane in place firmly in place for several moments to allow her to regain sanity and a measure of control over her body.  Finally he gave the blubbering, coughing, sweating girl a tender squeeze and told her, “OK, it’s over Diane, you can get up now.   Unsteadily, the girl got to her feet and reached back with both hands.  The touch reignited millions of insulted nerve endings, bringing forth a new torrent of tears.  As he had done with his own daughter, Mr. Campbell held out his arms invitingly.  That’s all Diane needed, still naked from her bra down, she climbed up into his lap for a long cry.               
Mrs. Campbell entered the room with a jar of lotion in her hand.  Mr. Campbell comforted Diane, while Elizabeth tenderly applied lotion to Tricia’ buttocks.  Finally, the parents guided Diane to her bed for her own lotion treatment.  After hugs and kisses all around, the parents left the two girls face-down in their beds covered only by light sheets.  After a few final sniffles, the two girls fell fast asleep.

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The next morning, the two girls bused to the campus library to work on Tricia’s paper.  As local custom dictated, they moved to the back of the bus, though some might wonder why the two girls chose to stand for the ride.
The following days were a blur of activity.  Tricia came up with a whole new theme for the paper.  The entire weekend was spent in the library doing research and making notes on 3 by 5 cards.  Tricia put he cards into a logical order, and then made an outline for the new paper.  After a bit of collaboration, the girls finally agreed on a final outline.  Then Tricia started writing in longhand.  As she finished each page, Diane typed the first draft.  By Wednesday night, they had the first draft typed and “marked up” with various revisions.  Diane then typed the second draft while Tricia worked on the bibliography and end notes.
Finally, they typed out an unprecedented third draft.  They both agreed that it was the best research paper they had ever seen.  They put it in an impressive binder, and then Tricia delivered it to her professor hours before the deadline.  He graded it an “A”, and then downgraded it to a “B” for tardiness.  It was the best result that Tricia could possibly hope for.  By noon Friday, the girls were celebrating over lunch.
Both Tricia and Diane profited greatly from the project.  Tricia really needed the help, while Diane needed distraction from her own problems and enjoyed the familial comfort of the Campbell home.  It was also good for Jane.  Her school’s semester wasn’t quite over yet.  Diane took an interest and helped Jane drill for her final exams.
With the paper done, both girls, especially Diane, had time to worry about Diane’s punishment which was to happen that evening.  Mrs. Campbell put things in perspective when she quietly pulled Diane aside that afternoon.  “How does your bottom feel?” she asked.
Suspecting why she was being asked, Diane answered carefully.  “It’s mostly OK.” 
“Mostly?” Mrs. Campbell asked.  “I don’t want you spanked tonight if your bottom is still bruised.”
“Please!” Diane begged, “Don’t make me wait.  I’m scared, but I REALLY want to get my punishment over.”
“I understand how you feel,” Elizabeth said, “but we can’t have you injured.  Mr. Campbell insists that I look at your bottom to be sure.”    
With her heart in her throat, Diane allowed herself to be led into the bathroom.  Blushing furiously, she lowered her pants and panties to present her bottom for inspection. 
“There are still some marks from last week.” Elizabeth said, “My suggestion would be to wait a couple more days.  Are you sure you really want to go through with it tonight?”
Diane’s stomach flipped.  Despite her earlier declaration, she was almost tempted to accept the offered delay.  Before she could change her mind she blurted, “The only thing worse than getting spanked tonight would be being made to wait longer for it.”       
Elizabeth warned with uncharacteristic sternness; “Mr. Campbell won’t go easy on you just because you have a tender bottom, so don’t even ask.  You’ve earned a hard spanking, and doubtless he’ll deliver.”
Her eyes welling with tears, Diane nodded.  “I know Mrs. Campbell; I just want to get it over.  I hate to be so much trouble to you and Mr. Campbell.”
“OK Diane” Elizabeth said, gathering Diane into a comforting hug, “I just needed to ensure that you understand.  …And you are no trouble.  You’re a wonderful person and we’re proud to be able to help you.”
With Tricia’s project over, the afternoon dragged for Diane.  However, she noticed the girls acting mysterious, as if they were bursting with some secret.  She tried asking Tricia about it, but only got an enigmatic smile.  Diane might have hoped that she was somehow to be let off from her spanking, but her earlier talk with Mrs. Campbell made that unlikely.  To pass the time, Diane helped Mrs. Campbell in the kitchen until Mr. Campbell arrived from work.  Suddenly Diane found herself urged to “go be with the girls”.  Obviously the parents needed to talk.

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Soon everyone was called to supper.  Supper was uneventful, except that Diane kept noticing significant glances between the various Campbell’s.  Finally the dishes were cleared away and desert plates brought out.  Mr. Campbell cleared his throat.  “It seems that a little family conference is in order.”  Diane started to stand, thinking that she shouldn’t be included.  “No, please sit Diane” Mr. Campbell said, “This concerns you.”
There was a pregnant silence, but finally he spoke again.  “I’m sorry about what must happen this evening Diane.  I’m not looking forward to it, and I’m sure you’re not either.  What we need to talk about has no bearing on your coming punishment … understand?
Diane nodded dumbly, but of course she didn’t understand.
“I have been getting phone calls all day.” He began.  “First it was Tricia, then Jane, and finally Elizabeth.  They all wanted the same thing; they all wanted you to move out of your dorm and live here as part of our family.  I … I want it too.”  Before Diane could speak, he continued in a husky voice.  “You would follow the same rules as Tricia and Jane, and be subject to their discipline, including spankings if necessary.  You uniquely know precisely what that means.  Think about it, you don’t have to decide today.”
Diane sat in shock, not believing her ears.  Finally she swallowed and found her voice. “I don’t need to think about it.  I want that more than anything in the world.  How can I thank you?   …all of you!”  All of the Campbell’s were in tears, but Diane never knew, she was crying herself. 

There’s really no need to describe the spanking that Diane received that evening because it was a carbon copy of last week’s spanking.

She was dressed the same.  Only a bra

The chair was the same

The hairbrush was the same

Mr. Campbell’s technique was the same.

He spanked just as hard and just as long.

She screeched just as loud and cried just as hard.

She learned her lesson just as well.

But one big thing was different. For the first time in her life, Diane was across the lap of a real father figure, a man who loved her.

Yes, Diane had found a home.

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