At the speed of light, Alan opened the living room door, plopped down on the couch aside Emma, kissed her cheek and exclaimed: "So, how’s it coming along? Got it done? Can I watch? Need a hand?"

"Err, well, it’s okay I guess," Emma said, looking over her note cards for the speech she had to give tomorrow morning in class. "Just, err, slow. And I got my visual aid," she offered.

"Hmm, going slow in preparing it, or are you afraid it’s going to be too long?" Alan said as he looked at the note cards over her shoulder, rubbing her belly soothingly with a hand.

"I am just really not ready to do this" she said softly. Not that she was unprepared, not by any means. She had done an excellent job preparing for her speech on growing plants. But she felt so bad about this.

"It sure does look the opposite, little one," Alan said. "I knew nothing about this stuff till you came up with it; it sounds pretty much in-depth to me." He took the cards off her hands and her look at him. "What is it, hmm? Stage fright? YOU, Emma Watson?"

She nodded. "Yes, and don’t tease me dad" she said with a pout, curling up on the curl with a pillow as she stared at her materials. "I don’t wanna do this"

"Aww I’m not teasing you baby," he said, looking sorry, and laying aside her on the couch. "I just wished I could help more, but this is something you need to face on your own, you know?"

"Yeah, but I don’t think I can do this" Emma whispered, completely unsure of herself

"And I think you can," Alan repeated, reaching for her hand and kissing it. "As soon as you’re up there, you’re going to see how easy it is. Do you trust me?"

"Yes -- wanna do it for me? If you love me you will! Or write me a note!" She begged with her best sad puppy eyes, and for a moment they were about to work, for there was nothing cuter than Emma in her puppy-face mode.

But Alan shook his head. "No. I can help you with preparing it, but that’s all."

"You suck sometimes," she mumbled

"I revel and bask in my suckiness, then," he smirked, with a kiss to her nose.

Emma rolled her eyes "Daaaaaad! Please, come on, do this for me!"

"Not in a million years, princess," he smiled. "It’s a great presentation, I’m not going to take a very good mark away from you by making you a note or something."

"But it won’t be a good mark, it’ll suck!"

"If it does, then you’re going to get a spanking, alright?" he said, but quickly bomped her head playfully. "I’m kidding, silly. It’s going to be great."

Emma rolled her yes. "Yeah, whatever." She gathered her supplies and stalked off to her room, slamming the door behind her. This was just going to go bad, and she knew it. And one way or another, she’d get out of it.

Alan was just at a loss for words. He knew Emma was stubborn as a donkey sometimes, and if she was convinced that it would go bad, then perhaps it really would. He just hoped she would find it in her, the following morning, to be courageous about it.

The next morning as Emma sulked over her breakfast, Alan hurried to get to a meeting. "Have a good day dad," even if she wasn’t happy, didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She hugged him tight. He hugged her just as tight, and kissing her forehead he wished her the best of luck, promising he’d take her out tonight if everything went alright.

Emma got ready for school, and even left the house, walking in that direction. She only got about blocks from the house when her knees felt like jelly. She just couldn’t do it! Being an actress and being up front as yourself are so much different! She took off running for her house and went back inside. She got herself some more breakfast, changed back into her pj’s which made her feel more comfortable, and spread out some other homework on the table. It would be hours and hours until Alan got home. Maybe by then she’d come up with an explanation.

Hours later, when Alan eventually did come back, he was surprised to find his daughter home. Taking a glance at his wrist watch, he saw it was barely noon, and hence a couple of hours before Emmy’s usual time to be back. Somehow he knew something was up with her presentation and everything, but was willing to give her the benefit of doubt at least.

"Hey sweetheart," he said, approaching the table. "How’s it going?... your speech has been SO good the teacher allowed you the rest of the day off?" he winked.

"Dad, come sit please?" she patted the chair beside her. "I’ll make us lunch after we talk, okay? I have some explaining to do."

"Of course dear," Alan said, and from the look on her face he could tell something was definitely up. "Some explaining about what?" he asked as he took off his coat and set the bag down on the floor, then sat.

She scooted her chair next to his and looked at him. "I’ve been learning not to let things like fester and get much worse then they are to begin with, so I’m going to explain now before the school calls you. Dad... I got ready for school and I got about halfway there, maybe a little less, and I just felt -- panicked. And I knew if I went, I’d have a panic attack and be a mess and then all the kids would think I was weird. I really did intend to go this morning, I didn’t set out to skip. But I was... uh, really scared," she said softly. "It’s scary to be myself in front of people. It’s kind of hard to explain. And I know skipping school is bad and that’s why I am telling you, and I didn’t try to fake sick to the school or anything. Just... just keep in mind that I didn’t skip to see a movie or be lazy... see, I’ve been doing homework all morning... but I was scared and I didn’t know what else to do ‘cuz I didn’t want to be sick like that at school, ‘cuz those attacks can get real bad." She took a deep breath after all that talking. "Okay, thanks for not interrupting. Your turn," she said softly, watching the emotions that played on his face.

They were too many to be listed, actually. He himself didn’t understand it all yet, but he was sure he was being faced with what a parent never wants to face: their kids breaking a rule because they are scared of something, or because they want to help a friend, and then trying to make it up in every possible way. It was ten times worse than straight-out disobedience, because it was harder to decide what to do. When he tried to think of what Emmy had done in a logical way, he just saw "skipping school; lying; not facing the tasks she had and running away from them". On the other hand, he saw a girl who despite everything was still rather fragile and wouldn’t have been able to bear with all the teasing. While his heart broke, he stood and reached for his child hugging her.

"Emmy... why are you so scared of that? You’ve never had a problem acting in public, let alone talking. And I thought we’d worked this out yesterday night. Am I wrong?" he spoke, trying to sound soothing even though he was a bit angry, not to mention immensely disappointed.

Emma snuggled up close. "I just... I panicked. People, when I act, I’m a character. I’m Hermione or whoever, and that’s what people see. When I have to be up in class, I’m Emma, and that scares me. I don’t want to fail, but I can’t live up to the expectations that ‘Emma Rickman is an actress, she’ll ace this speech’ just because I am an actress. That’s my job, it’s not Emma Rickman. And I didn’t lie to anybody, and I did intend to go this morning, but I just... I got a little ways and then I felt the starting signs and I was scared. Go to school, get sick, do speech, get worse sick; stay home, be safe, be in trouble. Neither are good options, they both suck, but I didn’t want to be scared, and I never feel scared here or with you. I’m really sorry dad, and I know you’re upset with me and that hurts worse then anything else. But I can’t live up to that expectation that I’ll be perfect at it, and the teachers always think that because of those movies! It’s too much pressure, and Emma Rickman isn’t as brave and smart and things as Hermione Granger, but I’m working hard at it." She buried her face in his chest, not crying, but just because it was a comfortable and comforting position.

Alan just sighed after she was finished, and held her close too, hugging her slender body tight and kissing the top of her head. "You know what, Emma Rickman isn’t even a bit as snotty as that Granger girl," he whispered. "And also, she knows that there are choices to make in life, and that sometimes, whatever road you take it’s going to take you somewhere you don’t like, no matter the premise." He broke the hug and looked in her eyes, smiling just a bit. "Do you remember when you helped Sammie cheat on a test despite knowing it would get you in trouble? It’s not much different, Emmy. You didn’t have the strength to stick to what you knew was right, back then, and today you didn’t have the strength to face something hard. You have all of my sympathy, sweetheart, I know how scary it can be, but that doesn’t cancel the fact that you should have gone ahead and faced it. It’s not a victory if you fold back to where you feel sheltered. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Emma nodded slowly. "I failed, not only ‘cuz I skipped and didn’t give my speech, but because I let getting scared make the decision for me?" she asked tentatively, playing the idea in her mind.

"Yes, that’s quite like it," Alan nodded too. "You let fear get in the way, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t be scared – heck, I get all shaky and sweaty too when I need to talk in public. But, Emmy honey, the goal isn’t not to feel fear: it’s to face it, and win it. When you’ve done that, things may go good or bad, but you’ll have faced them, without running away. Does this make sense to you?"

She nodded. "It does, and I’m sorry... Really made the wrong choice, huh?" she asked, though it was more of a statement then a question. "And she’ll probably make me do it tomorrow anyway for a lesser grade. I’m sorry, dad."

"Yes princess, you really did the wrong choice. And don’t worry one bit about the grade: even if you fail it, I’ll still be proud of you because you did it." He hugged her, squeezing her again. "But as of now, you’re in big trouble, Emma Charlotte," he made his voice a tad sterner.

Emma nodded, her head hanging. "I know daddy, I’m really sorry.... but at least I told the truth!" she offered – She was really proud of herself for that, because it would have been really easy to try and lie to get out of things.

"Yes you did, and that will save you a great deal of further trouble, honey. I’m proud of you for confessing right away without hiding it. I must say you never really try and get away with things after all, and that makes me proud..... But anyway. Why don’t you go get the Chart? I’ll be here."

Emma hugged him tight again before nodding, taking a deep breath and making her way to his study, where she opened the drawer they kept the Chart in. Sighing heavily, she wondered if she’d ever grow out of being... not being... *acting* stupid. When she was back, Alan patted his lap for her to sit on, then took the paper sheet from her hands and pointed at the entries ‘skipping school’ and ‘being irresponsible’.

"Read it aloud, Emmy," he said, wanting her to do it.

Emma gulped, and nestled against his chest. "Spoon... and hand," she said softly.

"That’s right," Alan nodded. "That means I will give you the usual warm-up, then your spanking with the spoon. And how about we leave the very last part with the hand at bedtime?" he offered.

Emma nodded. "Okay, daddy" she whispered, already sniffling. "I hate being naughty, but I cannot ever seem to stay good for very long"

"Sometimes you manage, sometimes you don’t. And now," he said, standing up, "get your nose in that corner while I get the spoon." He knew that corner time after a spanking was a no-no, and he’d never dare, but he also knew she could tolerate it, before.

Emma nodded and scurried over to the nearest corner in the kitchen, putting her nose nearly on the wall. She fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her hands covering her small bottom in nervous anticipation. From the living room, Alan sighed as he watched her comply, then took a few steps to the kitchen to fetch the first wooden spoon he could find – a quite large one – before going back to the living room and sitting down on an arm-less chair.

"Emma, please come here," he said.

She shuffled towards him, her head down, still holding her bottom. "Please not too much daddy, you’re gonna spank me later too, and I have to be able to sit *sometime* tomorrow," she begged.

Sighing again, Alan started to work her pj’s bottoms down. "I know Emmy, but this will be a hard spanking all in all. You know that, don’t you?"

She nodded, biting her lip. Weren’t *all* spankings hard after all?

"Alright." Alan proceeded to lower his daughter’s panties as well, so that they rested with her pj bottoms at her ankles, then gently placed her right away across his lap, so as to not embarrass her.

"I’m sorry I disappointed you daddy!" she blurted out when she found herself face-down and looking at the carpet.

"It’s alright, sweetie," he said, placing his broad hand on her petite bottom. "You should be sorrier that you disappointed yourself, really." And with that he started to spank her, with medium-force swats all over her bum. whack! whack! whack! whack! whack! whack! whack!

Emma yelped at the first few, then struggled to not make too much noise or wriggle too much: somehow it always seemed that it was a bad idea to wriggle too much. She made little gasps and hisses, her bottom bouncing under his firm hand. In point of fact, she was right: Alan did tend to spank a bit harder when she squirmed too much, not exactly for further punishment, but more out of instinct. He tried to keep the swats reasonably hard, though, and painted a bright pink hue on his daughter’s backside.

"Owwwwwww!" she finally yelped, starting to kick her legs. "Ouch! Owwiieee!" Tears gathered in her eyes and began to drip down her face as she hollered.

"Keep steady, Emma," Alan scolded softly, aiming two harder smacks at her thighs to reinforce the message, before moving back to the fullest portion of her bottom with loud slaps.

"Ouch! Daddy I can’t! OWW! Hurts too much!" She did try hard each time to hold still, but it never seemed to work that way. Her legs flailed, her hands flew back sometimes, she tried to move around from side to side. Right now she was just kicking and wailing. "Ouch, daddy please! Stop!! Please daddy, I can’t take three whole spankings! It’ll hurt too OWWW OWW much! OUCH! DARN IT! OWWW!"

"I know honey..." whack! whack! whack! whack! "... but you are making it harder..." whack! whack! whack! whack! "... so, I’m sorry I have to do this." And with that he threw a leg over hers to keep them steady, and also took hold of her wrists and pinned them to the small of her back. When he thought he had her under control, he picked up the spoon from the table and smacked it down hard across her bare backside. SPLATTT!

"AAAAAAAAH!" she shrieked, trying to buck from his lap. When he had pinned her wrists without her even reaching back first she had known she was really in for it now. "Daddddddy!" She began to cry louder, her face going red as tears flowed down her cheeks.

For the first time since adopting her, though, Alan was unmoved, and didn’t reply to her wailing. He raised the spoon again and proceeded to pepper Emmy’s bottom with it, landing not very hard swats, but not light either, from the top of her red buttocks to the lowest parts of her thighs.

Emma howled and started to sob, bunching her own shirt in her hands. "Daddddddeeeeeeee!" she sobbed. "Pleeeeeeeease!"

It was probably the longest spanking with an implement he had ever given her. Alan didn’t spank *nearly* as hard as he had in the past, not even with his hand, but rather delivered a lot of moderate smacks, and only when his daughter’s bummy was fiery red did he stop. By that time, Emma was sobbing and gasping over his lap, limp and shuddering.

"D--aaa--ddd---eeee," she moaned through hitching sobs.

"It’s over, Emmy honey," Alan said, setting down the spoon and gathering the crying teenager in his arms. One had instinctively went to rub her bottom, which now looked quite raw indeed, though he had been careful not to raise bruises, also considering her spanking day wasn’t over. "Daddy’s here, shh... hug me baby," he whispered.

She hugged him tight around his neck. "Please no more at bed, please daddy, anything else..." she begged, yelping even as he rubbed.

"Now, now, Emmy," he scolded softly. "This was for skipping school, we still need to deal with you not facing your duties. But I can promise it’s just going to be a mild reminder," he offered, and rocked and cradled her on his lap, rubbing her back and bottom in slow circles.

"I’m sorry I love you I’m sorry..." she babbled. "Needs lotion, lotsa lotion... ice?"

Alan actually did smile whenever she blurted out her feelings like that: she was just too cute! "Ice and lotion, how about that, hmm? And then we fix ourselves lunch, and rehearse your presentation in the afternoon."

She nodded. "Daddy, I need tiny tiny favour, okay? Pretty please? Err, two tiny little favours..."

Kissing her forehead, Alan nodded. "Well, try honey... what is it?"

"Can I eat on my tummy? And will you drive me to school tomorrow so I don’t get scared and stay home again?"

A big smile formed on his face. "Yes, and yes," he said. "Both things are good ideas. Know what, we’ll make pizza and eat on the couch," he offered, standing her up.

"Sweet," she said, in a feeble attempt at giggling, then groaned and rubbed her bottom. "Oh god, I wonder when I’ll get smart and never do bad stuff again," she moaned.

Alan grimaced a bit at that. She hadn’t exactly said she was stupid... not that he would smack her again anyway, so soon after such a spanking. But still, he winked and said: "You are smart, and don’t let me hear that again." He then pointed at her pants and panties, still at her ankles.

She squeaked and pulled them up. "I didn’t say I was stupid – meant that I made a stupid choice. There’s a difference," she pointed out, righting her panties with a howl. "Pants are BAD!" she sentenced, and kicked them across the room and walked slowly to her room, returning in a long night-gown. "That’s better."

"There’s a difference, and I’m sure you learnt all about that now," Alan said when she was back in the living room. He had stuffed the pizzas in the oven and switched on TV. The rest of the morning and the first half of the afternoon went by with them spending some father-daughter quality time, during which, halfway through a less-than-interesting movie he had chosen, Emmy dozed off on his chest.

* * *

That night Emma was writing in her journal when there was a knock on the door. "Come in, dad!" She had got out of the bath a half hour before, but was still lounging in a robe, her hair still slightly damp.

Walking in, Alan gently shut the door behind himself and sat on his daughter’s bed, giving her a wee smile. "What is it you’re writing in there?" he asked, smiling and pretending to try and snatch it from her hands. "Lots of thoughts about today’s events, I hope."

Emma wriggled and pulled her journal away. "Shh, not for your eyes daddy! You might get all embarrassed or something!" she giggled and tucked it under a pillow.

Alan rolled his eyes and sighed a resigned "teenagers!" under his breath, but he didn’t really want to know whatever might have embarrassed him. And then, his visit to her that night wasn’t out of pure courtesy. He swallowed and put on a more serious face as he reminded her that.

"It’s almost bedtime, Emmy..." he just said, leaving it hanging.

She nodded and whispered: "I know daddy... Are you here to get it over and done with?" Still laying on her stomach, one hand went back to cover her bottom. "I still hurts so bad," she moaned.

"I know honey, I know," Alan sighed again, and brushed her damp hair away from her forehead. "But yes, I’m here to finish. You know you deserve this, because we took care of your skipping school this afternoon, but not of your being irresponsible and not facing your task. Do you agree with this second spanking, baby?"

She shrugged as she said. "I agree with why, but I don’t really agree that it’s gotta happen NOW," she sniffled. "Just ‘cuz I hurt still real bad."

"Yes you do," said Alan in a condescending tone, "and I want your bottom to smart all through the night and tomorrow, so you’ll remember and think about this. Understood, Emma?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, bursting into tears. Smart! Heh, more like burn like fire every time she sat all through school tomorrow! And what if she got lots of bruises or something?

"Now, now... I promise it will be a light spanking, but you need to learn from this too. Two mistakes, two spankings, it’s just fair." And with that, seeing that she was resigning to her fate, he took her hand as to encourage her to come over.

She stood up and went over his lap quickly, not wanting to wait. "Daddy, I’m so sorry, please! I learned really good already, I swear! Please!" she begged before burying her face in the bedspread.

"We’ll see that as time goes by, Emmy," Alan said as he raised her robe, to find her still slightly damp – and definitely rosy red – bare bottom, "but I’m confident you did learn, because you’re a good girl." And with that he started to spank her with medium force swats.

"OWWWWWWWW!" She began wailing immediately. "Daddy, please!" She threw her hands back. "It hurts too much, stooooop! Pretty please, I love you!"

"I love you too honey..." whack! whack! whack! "... and that’s why I’m doing this..." whack! whack! whack! "... believe it or not." He continued with that slow rhythm, one spank every second or so, for a couple of dozens smacks, before stopping and rubbing her back.

"Waaaaaahh!" Emma sobbed and bawled. "Daddddeeeee!" Her shoulders shook with her crying, and her arms were wrapped around his leg, even after he was through.

"Shh, come on, it’s all over now," he said as he quit rubbing and gathered her in his arms like he always did. Emma regressed to an almost toddler-ish state after a spanking, and he knew she wanted him to hold her tight – something he loved, though, so he had no problem with that.

"I sorry I did bad, I sorry daddy, love you lots," she rambled, burying her face against his neck, her bottom burning like she had been placed over a frying pan.

"You will do better, I’m sure," Alan said soothingly in her ear. "And I love you more than anything, believe me when I say that... And I really think you’ll love some more ice before getting into bed tonight," he added in a whisper.

She nodded, still crying loudly. "Please!" She hugged him as tight as she could, holding on as her sobs slowed down.

"Okay," Alan said, giving her a small smile, "but you’ll have to let go of my neck if I have to go down to the kitchen."

"Oh yeah," she said softly, sliding over onto the bed. "But you come right back, okay?"

"I promise." He got up from the bed and went down to the kitchen, where he put half a dozen ice cubes into a small sack and shattered them to tiny pieces. When he re-entered her room, he found Emma laying on her tummy, and handed her the ice. "Here you go honey."

She carefully put it on her bottom, sighing in some slight relief. "Thank you daddy" she sniffled, and dried her face with a tissue

"You’re welcome baby," he whispered, and just sat on the bed beside her, caressing her hair. "I’m sorry I had to do that, but look on the bright side of things. I’m sure it’ll be a while before you need another spanking, right?"

"A long long long LONG LONG while," she said softly, laying her head on his lap. "Daddy, can I ask a favour?"

"Sure sweetheart," Alan said, still rubbing her hair, knowing that would get her sleepy soon.

"Stay with me until I fall asleep? Please? And I like that..." she commented about her hair.

Smiling sweetly, Alan leaned over and kissed her head. "I’ll do better. Why don’t you slip on some nightie and reach me in my bedroom? Would you like to sleep in the big bed, hmm?"

"Ooh yes!" She nodded eagerly. "You go ‘way so I can change, huh?" she gently pushed him out of the room.

"Ack!, and me here hoping I would get another peek at that cherry red bottom of yours... I’m kidding, silly. I’ll wait for you," and he exited her room.

Rolling her eyes, Emma slipped into a fuzzy flannel Hello Kitty And Friends long night shirt and put her damp hair back in a pony tail and then grabbed her ice. She went carefully down the hallway and knocked on his door. "I’m ready."

"Come in," Alan said. He was already under the covers, checking his schedule for the following day, but set the small agenda book aside and smiled at her as she walked in. "You’re beautiful, have I ever told you that?"

Her face blushed nearly as red as her bottom and she covered her mouth as she gave a small giggle. "A few times," she said softly. "But I really like hearing it." She kissed him sweetly, then slid slowly onto her tummy on the bed and plopped the ice pack back on her sore bummy cheeks.

"Well, you are... it’s only fair you’re my daughter... since I’m not exactly ugly either," he said with an acute smirk, then kissed her head as she lay aside him. "You need to sleep now princess. It’s been a harsh day, huh."

She nodded. "I love you daddy, a whole uber lot." She snuggled up to his chest and pulled the covers to her chin, bunching them in her right fist, while her left hand went under the pillow in her usual sleep pattern. "nite nite daddy."

"Goodnight sweetheart," he whispered, then lay beside her and turned off the light, leaving a small night light on as he knew was her custom. Within moments, they were both dozing off, leaving a tiring – but important – day behind their backs.

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan