ON THE SET

Alan turned yet another page in his address book, the "T" one this time... he was getting to the bottom of the alphabet, and still nothing. He had spent the afternoon calling all of Emma’s friends’ houses, asking if she was there or when they had last seen her, since the girl hadn’t come back from school on time and hadn’t called at all. After a dozen vain calls he was starting to get really worried. He dialled Sammie Turtledove’s number, and a woman, presumably her mother, picked up.

"Hello, this is Alan Rickman, Emma’s father," he said for the Nth time. "Sorry to be bothering you, but I was wondering if Emma is there with your daughter..."

"Oh, Alan," Mrs. Turtledove replied in a how-nice-to-hear-from-you tone. "Why, yes, she is. Is something wrong?"

He gave a big sigh of relief. "Thank Goodness. Is she okay?"

"Of course! Sam invited her over for dinner tonight, I figured you had known," she clicked her tongue, realising the situation. "I’m sorry that you didn’t, I would have called if I realized."

"Indeed, and I apologise for the trouble my daughter might have caused," Alan said. "No, she did not have permission and I didn’t know where she is. Do you mind telling her I’m coming to get her and I’ll be there in twenty minutes, please?"

"Sure, would you like to stay for dinner too? It’s just about ready," Mrs. Turtledove offered.

Automatically, Alan was about to refuse... but an idea flashed him, and he changed his mind. "Umm, well..." he glanced at the clock: it was 7pm. "Why not, thank you ma’am. But I wonder if Emma and I could be granted a few minutes on our own to talk before dinner."

On the other side of the line, Mrs. Turtledove nodded and gave a smirk. "Of course, that sounds good. Perhaps we can have a pillow for her, Alan, would that be alright? I am sure you are quite miffed about this all, aren’t you."

"Well, er..." Alan stuttered, totally aghast that she might actually know what was being discussed here. "I must confess I am a bit surprised, Mrs. Turtledove. I knew the rumour had been spread due to that Weston girl, but, well... not like this. A pillow is surely appreciated. Is that something you are comfortable with?, that I will punish my daughter?"

She smiled, though he couldn’t see it over the phone of course. "Well, they are best friends, and girls talk a lot, and Sam and I are very close too, she tells me things, and my husband George and I have always considered Emma as a second daughter, so, yes... I have known for quite a while," she admitted. "And yes, if you need to punish her here, I have no objections whatsoever. She is your daughter, and that was very irresponsible of her, and it’s not like you’re beating on her, are you! That is just not the kind of gentleman you are! I mean, we might have given Sam a smack or two when she was very little but I guess that if it still works for Emma, hehe, then full steam ahead, am I correct? Oh dear, my timer on the oven went off and Georgie just walked in. See in you twenty minutes, Mr. Rickman! Bye bye!" the phone clicked off.

Alan listened to Annie Turtledove talk and talk – just like her daughter, in those few occasions he had seen her – and all he could do was nodding and drop brief monosyllabic words of approval. When she had to go, he didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye! Smiling to himself, he stood and collected his jacket and car keys and walked towards the car. He drove to the Turtledoves’ house, parked in the street out of their building, took the lift to their apartment and rang the bell.

It was Sammie who opened the door. She was a cute redhead with a freckled face and a round little nose, a tad taller than Emma and of a slightly stronger build, but apart from that, the girls might have been mistaken for sisters – especially for the clothes nowadays teenagers dressed in.

"Uh oh," Sammie said in a very high-pitched voice. "Uh, well, like, come in, I’ll take your coat, Emma’s in my room, should I get her?" she asked, talking very quickly.

Alan smiled down at her, noting she sure had a vivacious attitude – and was probably even more troublemaker than Emma, herself, which was quite a contradiction in its own.

"Yes please," he said, smiling and giving her the coat. He walked into the big living room and shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Turtledove, and they exchanged brief greetings while Sammie took the coat and hung it without too much grace.

"Good to have you here Mr. Rickman for supper. You have a special girl," said Mrs. Turtledove as they shook hands.

"Why, thanks. Special in every regard, I am afraid." he rolled his eyes. "And, well, Samantha is exceptionally well educated," he said...

Right there and then, the thirteen-year-old took a deep breath and yelled: "EMMA, ALAN IS HERE AND HE’S PISSED!"

... then he coughed, while the girls’ parents blushed red. "Why, I didn’t even have a drink yet," he smirked, hoping to lighten up the tone, and that actually made the Turtledoves smile, while Sammie looked at them as though they were nuts – what was there to laugh?

A few seconds later Emma crept into the living room, and Sammie immediately had her arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders. She frowned at Alan, then smiled again, as if trying to decide whether or not to like him at the moment, considering what he’d probably do to her best friend’s bottom in a matter of minutes. Alan smiled back at Sammie’s protective attitude towards Emma, and was happy to see his daughter has such a good friend.

"Hi, Em," he said, trying to sound aseptic – no way he was going to scold her in front of the Turtledoves. "Having fun?"

Emma nodded, then gulped. "Yes. Annie... er... she said you wanted to talk to me?" Her hands went protectively over her bottom, out of a newly-acquired instinct.

Annie cleared her throat. "George, help me lift that shepherd’s pie from the oven, will you, dear?" she said, pulling her husband out of the room.

"Yes, most definitely," Alan replied. He watched as the Turtledoves walked out of the room, and Annie raised her eyebrows at him and he smiled back. "Sammie, hon," he said, addressing the girl, "would you be as kind as to lend us your bedroom for a moment? I am sure your parents need help with the table anyway."

Sammie nodded gravely. "Okay. MnM can show you where it is." She gave Emma a big hug and a quick peck on the cheek, then wandered into the kitchen without looking back.

"Thank you very much," Alan said. As soon as Sammie was out of the room, he turned to his daughter with a somewhat sterner look. "So, ‘MnM’," he teased. "Shall we go?"

Emma nodded and led him down the hallway, feeling like she was walking towards her doom. They entered the rather messy bedroom with yellow wallpaper all around, yellow bed-sheets and yellow everything, and Emma cleared off the bed for them to sit down. Noticing how teenage girls’ rooms all looked basically alike – posters of half-naked pop-stars, tons of CDs, candy aspersed throughout like holy water – Alan sat on the bed with his daughter.

"So, what’s going on?" He was mad, and worried, but he tried not to show it, at least, not until he would hear her reasons.

"I forgot to call and tell you, honest, or stop home and leave a note. Sammie asked me over, and I just didn’t think about it. I guess that makes me really irresponsible, but I didn’t try, and I’m really sorry that you worried so much," Emma told him in a hurry, while looking down at her small hands folded in her lap

For a moment, Alan was trying to decide if she had been preparing such a thorough speech for the last twenty minutes, but he also decided he didn’t care. She was being honest and sincere about it all, not trying to hide her mistake, and this made him rather proud.

"I understand. Yes, I was very worried. I imagined you were here or somewhere else, but I still was preoccupied about you."

"I’m really sorry," she whispered. "They... they don’t have big hairbrushes here," she added nervously, with a sniffle. "I’m so sorry daddy, I didn’t mean to scare you and be untrustworthy." She tried so hard to make him very proud of her, and it was difficult sometimes to remember all the new rules.

Somewhat relaxed that she was okay and didn’t want to lie and get away with it, but had simply forgotten, Alan leant over and kissed her forehead, then hugged her briefly. "Well I don’t know about hairbrushes, but that is not a problem. I’m not going to use one, Emmy."

She sighed in relief and helped herself to his lap, hugging him tight. "I won’t do it again, do you forgive me?" She didn’t even bother to beg to not be spanked; she knew all too well he wouldn’t change his mind on such decisions. And she knew she deserved it for making him worry.

Hugging her, and again kissing her forehead, Alan said: "Of course I forgive you, but I’m still going to give you a spanking, hon. I want you to let me know when you go somewhere, or do something. I’m not saying you don’t have to, but you need to tell me, okay?"

"Okay," Emma agreed. "I’ll try a lot harder to remember. Is... is it gonna be a big spanking?" she looked up at him with wide, beautiful eyes that sparkled with tears that were waiting to be shed.

"I know you will do your best," he said, nodding. "Well, not ‘big’, but you are definitely going to feel it, Em. And by the way, Annie has already placed a cushion on your seat. We’re staying over for dinner."

Thinking about how that could affect her – Sammie knew already, yeah, but her parents?? – Emma decided it was best not to argue for now, so she just nodded and gave a great sniffle, on the verge of tears already. Alan kissed her again, then had her get off his lap and stand before her. She was wearing tight jeans and a Plum Fairy light purple top.

"Please take down your trousers, Em."

Without arguing, Emma unsnapped her jeans and pushed them down to her knees, revealing light yellow cotton panties which seemed a natural part of that room’s furniture. Alan gently took hold of his girl and draped her body across his knees, adjusting her so that her panty-clad bottom was right in the centre.

She took a hold of his leg to steady herself, and he noticed how her cheeks wriggled a little in her panties as she gave a nervous shiver. But again, Alan didn’t wait, for he wished it to be through quick as much as she did. He raised his hand and started smacking her cheeks with firm smacks.

Emma whimpered and squirmed under his blows, which were hurting like hell as they always did. Nonetheless, Alan kept spanking for several seconds, around thirty, before he stopped.

"Emma, I want you to know that though not ‘bad’, what you did worried me and is not to be repeated in the future," he scolded in a quiet voice as he lowered the girl’s knickers down to just below her bottom, at mid-thigh. "Am I making myself clear?"

"Y--yes sir," Emma sniffled, as tears began to flow from her eyes.

"Good. I want this to be a lesson to you, sweetheart," and with that he resumed spanking with quite hard whacks to her bare backside, slightly pink already.

"Owwwwiieeeee!" Emma wailed, starting to kick hard and she burst into loud tears, instead of the quiet ones that flowed silently. "Ow, daddy, YEOW! OUCH!"

Since he was not going to use any instrument, Alan planned on making quite an impression with his hand, so he flattened his palm and spanked Emma thoroughly, from the top of her round buttocks to the upper thighs, focusing quite a lot of smacks on the very tender flesh of her sit-spot, on both sides – whack whack whack – He continued at 1-2 smacks per second for almost a minute, during which Emma howled and kicked and pleaded, finally throwing her hands back to protect.

"I’ll be gooooooooooooooooood!" she shrieked, hanging her head and weeping.

Alan took her small hands and restrained her from covering herself, then gave her ten more hard whacks on her sit-spot, which were to seal the end of the spanking, and released her hands.

"It’s okay honey, it’s over," he said. "You can get up when you want to."

Emma just kept up her weeping and went limp, burying her face on his leg as she tried to calm down, which was always very hard after a spanking of his. Alan waited, patiently, there was no hurry. He rubbed her back and bottom, trying to ease down some of the sting and to have her breathe in a regular pattern again.

When she had calmed down enough, she switched her position so that her bottom rested between his legs and she hugged him tightly: the loving hugs and words were very needed for Emma after a spanking. Careful not to touch her sore bum with his legs, Alan hugged Emma back very tight, and kissed her teary cheeks, and told her how much he loved her.

"It wasn’t very big, was it? You’ve been very good."

"I have?" Emma asked, quite surprised.

"Oh, yes, you took it well," he said, softly. "And you didn’t try to escape it, because you realised your mistake, and you were candid about it with Sammie. I’m very proud of you, little Emmy."

At those words of praise, so unexpected in such a frame, Emma’s face cheeks blushed red just as her nether cheeks had, and she hugged him again. "I love you an awful lot," she whispered

Alan kept her very close. "If you love me, how can it be awful?" he teased her, winking.

This made her giggle some, and she kissed his cheek with a soft peck of her lips. "Will... will you rub it some more, before we go out?" she asked softly of him.

"Of course," he said, and had her sit on his lap so he could easily rub her bummy, which he did quite energetically. "That better?"

Emma nodded, feeling a great relief and moaning as some sting was rubbed away. "Thanks daddy." She hugged him once more, then stood and put her clothes back to the proper place.

Smiling, Alan stood up and straightened his tie and the wrinkled tissue of his jacket and trousers. "Ready for some shepherd’s pie?" he asked as Emma tucked her top back inside her jeans.

"Sounds real good."

She led him back out to the kitchen, blushing a bit. Alan followed to the kitchen, where they met the Turtledoves already sitting at the table, intent on filling all the five plates.

"I apologise for the delay," he said in a polite manner. "A little father/daughter talk, nothing big," he commented as he sat.

Annie and George exchanged looks and the woman cast a smile towards Alan, who returned it.

Emma sat, biting her lip, and since she didn’t quite know how to voice it, Sammie just looked at her best friend and mouthed: "Are you okay?" Emma shrugged, squirming slightly, though the pillow did help. "Yeah," she whispered back.

Sammie smiled, giggling a bit, but a look from her father told her she’d better not to, so she just kept eating, knowing she had a very good and courageous friend.

Emma winked back at Sammie, though. "This is really good Annie, thanks." She ate heartily, glad no one actually brought up her spanking.

"Why, thank you dear," said Mrs. Turtledove.

And after Alan smiled to Emma across the table, they all ate happily as though nothing had happened. 

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan