"EMMA/EMMY"
(part Two of Two)

The young teenager was still fast asleep when Alan arrived later on to pick her up. Emma carefully disentangled herself from the sleeping teen and answered the door. "Shh!" she said putting her finger to her lip. "Emmy is sleeping, she had a bad headache."

"Oh alright," said Alan, giving Emma a brief hug. "Is she okay apart from that? Everything going smooth?" he said as he walked in.

Emma pulled him into the kitchen. "You and I need to have a serious talk. Emmy was really upset and part of it was your fault," she said. "What can I get you to drink before I fill you in?"

Alan was quite taken aback by Emma’s tone, and he wondered what was up as he sat down. "Just a Scotch... and what is this all about? Something serious about Emmy? You’re worrying me..."

"Well, Emmy lied to you Alan. About Sheila, and her therapy. And before you get all upset, I already spanked her for it. And I don’t want you to spank her for it again. You backed her into a corner, you following me so far?"

Alan sipped from his glass and shook his head. "Not in the slightest. What has she lied to me about? That it’s all going well? And what does it mean that I ‘backed her into a corner’?"

"Apparently Emmy got the impression from you that you are impatient for her to hurry and get better. She didn’t want to tell you that things are slow, because she has a lot to work on with Sheila; she thought you might take her to another therapist. She lied because she thought that was what you wanted to hear; she only wanted to please you, but she felt terrible about it."

Nodding his head, Alan started to understand what the big deal was, and connected this to the feelings he’d had while walking out of Emmy’s room, earlier that day. "I see," he just said, and drank the whole glass in one long sip. "God, I never thought my concern would get to her as prying or something."

"No, she doesn’t see it as prying," said Emma as she sat, her arms still crossed. "She just thinks you want her to hurry and be better, and felt you would be upset if she wasn’t. She knows Sheila is expensive and such, but it’s also slow. Emmy has problems, we both know that, and she’s trying her best. But she confessed, and I spanked her, because lying is wrong no matter what. But I wanted to talk to you about this. Be a little more open and not so over eager about it. Sounds easier I’m sure then it will be, but that’s just my advice anyways."

"Thanks, Emma..." Alan said, nodding. "You’re right, I shouldn’t have hurried it, it’s just that... well, I don’t see any visible result, and I hate that. But yeah I know things are going to be slow, I guess I’ll just have to get used to it," he added, raising his eyebrows. "And anyway, I’m glad she felt she could open up with you."

"Things are going to take time. The more damage that was done, the longer it will be. But she is trying, which is the most important, don’t you think? So don’t be too upset with her, I spanked her pretty good." Emma informed him.

"I just hope that I didn’t cause any more damage," he sighed, leaning back on his chair, then sat up straight again and asked: "Not that I don’t trust you, but... can I know how you dealt with her?"

Emma chuckled. "Of course, you are her father Alan. And no, I don’t think you caused anymore damage. She just worries, she wants to be better, both for herself and for you. She gives me the impression that you inspire her, you know? Kinda help her to keep going and learning and growing? That’s very special," she paused, giving him a moment to think and perhaps comment before she spoke again

"Yeah I know... she looks up to us adults, especially me. Even too much, sometimes, you probably noticed that ‘little’ self-esteem problem of hers. She relies too much on others’ opinions of her."

"Yes, I have. It makes me quite sad actually." Emma sighed. "And I spanked her with my hand and some with a slipper as well."

"Well we have a small ‘chart’ at home, and whenever she speaks ill of herself, I spank her a dozen times there and then, it’s our deal... and yeah, that seems like a hard spanking. I’m glad," he said, exhaling. "Normally I should give her the belt for lying, you know?"

"Yes, she mentioned that she thought you might," Emma admitted. "And lying is very naughty of course... but seriously, I think you should leave it at this, because trust me: it was enough."

"Well," Alan said, standing up, "if you say it was a thorough one, I think it’ll be enough. I’ll check, of course, and then decide. Did she seem genuinely sorry to you? That’s what matters."

Emma nodded. "She was very upset and sorry before I even spanked her. She felt bad, but she also felt like she had no other choice."

"I understand," Alan nodded. "That’s probably going to spare her further punishment... Anyway, I’m so glad you and her get along so well," and again he hugged his friend.

Emma hugged him too as she heard noises from the living room. "Sounds like she’s waking up."

"Uh huh," Alan confirmed, and they both walked to the living room, to see Emmy slowly turning around on the couch, stretching her arms and making little noises associated with just waking from a restful sleep.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," said Alan, kneeling aside her. "Had a nice one?"

Emmy nodded and hugged him. "Daddy, did mum tell you what I did?" she asked softly.

The way itself she had phrased it struck him, and he could tell Emma was just as amazed. It just sounded so... so family-like. "Yes... yes honey, she did tell me everything."

"Okay. I’m really sorry. But my headache is gone now."

"I’m glad it did," whispered Alan, "and we’re going to talk about you being sorry later, sweets."

She nodded. "Time to go, huh?"

"Yes, time to go. I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s evening already."

"Oops!" she exclaimed, and quickly got up from the couch and gathered her things. She gave Emma a sweet smile and hugged her tight. "Thank you mum," she whispered.

"You’re welcome... bye sweetie."

* * *

Emmy dropped her stuff as always by the door when they arrived home. Everything she ever carried got dumped there, it was such a habit. And, picking it all up like he always did, Alan stopped his daughter before she could go up to her room, or to the fridge, or both.

"Em, honey... do you want to talk about it?"

The girl took a deep breath and faced him. "Okay," she said softly. "I lied, and I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I was really worried that you’d make me start over with another therapist because you don’t think we’re going fast enough. Things don’t just get better overnight," she explained. "I need some juice, walk with me." She took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen with her and began to pour herself a glass of orange juice.

Alan didn’t move or say anything, but just listened to all she had to say. He went through different stages. Anger when she confessed having lied, relief when he understood she was sorry because of it, sadness upon knowing it had really been his fault like Emma had said. He let her lead him to the kitchen and as he walked with her, he asked:

"Emmy, why didn’t you just tell me that?..."

"You just seem so eager dad," she said softly, sitting down with her juice. She was decidedly ignoring looking at his face. "You always get so excited and ask how things are doing and is that getting better or is this getting better, like it’s some sort of miracle therapy. It’s not, it takes time, I’m like *really* messed up, dad, I mean really. You don’t even know everything, because there is stuff I can’t even talk about yet with Sheila. We are working so hard, and I don’t want to start over and I don’t want to disappoint you by not getting better, like – like right now."

Many times Alan tried to cut in and say something, but she would just keep on talking, and he saw she was pouring it all out, finally. But when she seemed to have finished, he took a deep breath and said: "Em, I’m sorry... It shouldn’t have gone like that, I know it takes time for a therapy to be effective, and believe me, I am GLAD that you’re working hard. All I meant to say was that it’s been, what, two months?, and there is no result. Only now I understand that there is no result showing, but that perhaps you two have been getting somewhere after all," he ended with a sigh.

Emma nodded. "Sometimes it’s hard to show what has changed or is being changed. I can’t wear a sign that says: ‘This week I worked on this incident that happened when I was nine’, I mean, it’d be stupid. But I am feeling better. Each time I go, I do feel better, in here," she tapped her chest to illustrate her point. "But the big things, like feeling I’m stupid and stuff all the time, Sheila says that will take the most time to change, because I’ve felt that way for so long. So we started with all the things that have *caused* me to feel that way. The things said or done or events, all that."

"I understand, sweetheart," Alan said, yet with another sigh. He shook his head, looking at the floor, wondering how he could have been so careless as to make her feel under pressure while all she needed was time and a healthy environment to live in. "All I can say is that I’m sorry, Em. I shan’t do the same mistake again, I promise. And yes, of course I’m not changing Sheila, baby... Still, I don’t like it when you lie, because it brings to... well, to this," he said, waving his hand.

Emma nodded, sniffling. "Lying eats me up inside, that’s why I told Emma – mum," she corrected herself. "And she spanked me really good." She rubbed her bum with one hand while taking a drink of juice. "Should I go to my room and wait?" she asked after finishing her drink.

Alan hugged her and kissed the top of her head, then detached from her and nodded. "Yes, go to your room and wait. I’ll be up in a minute." He didn’t go into further detail because he himself had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, and that was eating HIM up.

Emma squeezed him tight, put her glass in the sink like a good girl and ran upstairs. She sat cross-legged on the middle of her bed, fiddling with her hair and examining her nails. Was he going to wash her mouth? Would he spank her again? She squirmed, even on the pillow she sat on.

Alan had said a minute but it actually took him more like a hour to make up his mind. He kept looking at the Chart over and over again, his eyes fixed on the words "lying" and "belt". There was no way he was going to give her a whipping... but then again, that was what the Chart said... He just didn’t know. Finally, he understood what he should have been doing, and after thinking it through, walked up to Emma’s bedroom and knocked on the door, entering when she whispered ‘come in.’

Sitting on her bed, Alan said: "Emmy, I’m not going to spank you. "

Emma gulped and hugged her teddy bear. "I know, you’re gonna use the belt," she whispered with shaky voice. He could hear the tears in her voice, and she had no clue why the tears weren’t falling already. She took a deep breath as a shiver went down her spine. How *did* she keep getting herself into these situations??

Alan thought it even funny for a moment, but knew better than to laugh. He still gave her a little smile, though, and ruffled her hair. "No, babygirl. I thought about deciding after seeing how red your bummy is, but that’s not important. Emma said you were very sorry, and I can see that too."

"You can see if you want," Emma whispered. "And you’re not gonna use the belt? I’m not gonna get spanked at all?" She was very surprised. "I really hoped you weren’t going to, but I figured you would. Daddy, I love you so much!" she threw herself into his arms, nestling tight as she always did, her warm body clinging to his.

Alan hugged her tight and kept her close, letting her snuggle in and covering her head with kisses. "No honey I don’t need to see it, and yes, you’re not going to get spanked at all, because it would be too severe and you’ve already been punished. Just remember that if you lie ever again, I *am* going to use the belt, and very soundly," he warned, wearing a firm expression. "As of now, here’s what we’re going to do, listen: next time you and Sheila have an appointment, I’m coming along and talk to her, and I’ll explain this whole thing. Will this help you in any way?" he concluded with a smile.

Emma nodded, and though she knew she was getting off easy, she still didn’t fancy the mouth washing at all. Sighing, she just said: "Yes daddy. And I will remember, oh BOY will I remember. And slippers are awful," she pointed out. "Daddy, you’re the greatest ever, I wish I could have been yours right from the beginning!"

Alan looked quizzical when she said that. "How do you mean you could have been ‘mine right from the beginning’, honey?"

She sighed, wondering why it took him so long to grasp things sometimes. Maybe just because he was old or something. "Well, uh, duh, like when I was born, silly," she patted his head, and kissed his cheek.

He suddenly understood what she meant; he suspected it, but he wasn’t sure and didn’t want to seem too forward. "Aww Emmy... you have no idea how sweet that is, do you? But it doesn’t matter, not as long as we’re together now, right?" he offered with a smile.

She nodded, kissing his cheek again. "Duh," she snuggled tight. "You can see if you want, honest. It still stings like crazy."

"Ouch," he said, sympathising with her. "Of course, but first..." he stood and walked out of her room, to the bathroom and back, carrying a bottle of baby oil. "I’m sure your slippered little bottom will enjoy a touch of this," he said, winking.

Emma beamed, nodding eagerly. "Oh yeah, very much!" She slid down her pants and leaned over his lap like a good girl. "Daddy, I love you like uber much, like Sammie says," she giggled.

Rolling his eyes, but smiling, Alan said: "Umm... I guess it’s a compliment," he teased, tickling the side of her belly for a moment, which had her giggle some more. Then he slid down her panties and saw how still very pink her bottom was. "Wow! Emma wasn’t soft on you, was she?" he commented as he poured generous amounts of baby oil on her flaming cheeks.

The good, fresh feeling started to heal her burning bottom right away, and Emma nodded as she smiled blissfully. "It hurt like crazy and she made me sit in the corner with her and everything and I didn’t like it. It hurts to sit right after a spanking, a lot... but she was sweet... and then I had a headache and she had to take my temp," she pouted.

Alan nodded as he spread the oil all over, then patting her cheeks affectionately. "Yes, she told me. And I know she takes temperature in the way you don’t exactly love, hmm?"

"Yeah," she pouted even more. "Makes me feel like a baby, but my headache is gone now."

"That’s good about the headache," Alan said, "but it’s not because of that that she, and I, resort to that sometimes. It’s just more accurate, you know," he lied blatantly.

"Yeah right," she rolled her eyed. "That’s what you always say. Oh well, I love you anyways."

"Oh, thank you, Her Majesty Emma the First," he teased, again tickling her side.

"You’re welcome, squire!" she said through her giggles as she squirmed.

Alan finally stopped and gathered her in his arms, pulling her panties back up as he did that. "I love you, princess. And I’m going to help you however you ask me to, promise."

Emma nodded, hugging him tight, her pants bunched at her knees. "Are you gonna wash my mouth, dad?" she asked softly after a moment of cuddles.

Still hugging her very tight, Alan shook his head. "No baby, I don’t think you deserve it... why, do you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She shook her head no, smiling broadly and snuggling close. "Good. Just didn’t wanna get too comfy and then you decide you wanted to."

He couldn’t help but giving a small laugh at that. "Alright, that makes sense. But be sure that when you’re in trouble and I mean to punish you for it, you will know," he said.

Emma nodded, and smiled happily. Life was good even with a sore butt, sometimes.

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan