ON THE SET

On Tuesday morning, Emma arrived early from school because she had been sent home. Thankfully for now, the house was empty, and she found some ice for her black eye. The more she thought about the fight she had been in, the more she thought how much Alan would be ashamed on her. Taking a deep breath, crying just a little, Emma decided it might make him less ashamed if she waited in the corner of his study. And that is exactly what she did, and stood there crying, with ice on her eye, waiting for him to return home..

It had been a hard morning at the studios, but Alan was quite happy to be finally home. Emma would arrive shortly from school and... but as he went and opened the front door, he found it unlocked already. Suspicious, he walked in. The girl’s jacket and schoolbag were on the floor in the foyer (as always), so she was probably home early. He wondered why.

"Emma?" he called. Automatically, he went to his study to leave his coat, and was aghast when he saw her standing in the corner, wearing her loosely-fit cargo jeans and a Top Girl top.

The young teen hadn’t heard him come in, and her slim shoulders were shaking slightly as she cried. She was very upset about what had happened, but proud that she had not thrown the first punch and had won the fight anyways!

Leaving his coat and bag on the study’s couch, Alan walked to the corner where she stood. He could hear her faint crying. "Em, honey, what’s up? Are you alright? What’re you doing there...?"

Emma turned around, moving the bag of ice, and hugged him. "Daddy, I’m sorry," she whispered. There was an envelope from the school on his desk.

When she turned around and hugged him, he saw the black eye she was sporting, and the bag of ice. "Oh my, Em... what happened? Someone hit you? Are you okay?" He quickly pulled his chair out and sat and had her stand in front of him so he could take a look at her eye.

"I got in a fight," she whispered. "And it hurts, but I’m okay."

"A fight," he repeated, nodding. "In school? Who with?" He touched the livid around her little eye, delicately, just with two fingers.

Emma winced, pulling back a little. "A girl, Melissa Weston, she’s a b... a snot"

Alan kept inspecting her black eye but withdrew after a while, seeing it was nothing serious, just a livid which would re-absorb itself in less than a week. "I see, isn’t that the one you always say teases you about everything?"

Emma nodded. "That’s the one. I got sent home early, and she did too."

"I sure hope so," said Alan. "What did they say? You got the eye looked at?"

"Sorta, the school nurse did. And there’s a letter," she pointed to it. "I’d much rather have Poppy look at it," she said softly, with a wink form her good eye. She was trying not to be so nervous.

"Okay. It does look just a black eye, you’ll be alright," he said, not really amused by her remark about Madam Pomfrey, the nurse in Harry Potter franchise. He stood and paced the room. "Why the fight, Em?"

"Well, I didn’t start it... but I did win. She was teasing me, because.... because.... everyone found out I get spanked," she whispered, hanging her head.

"Oh," Alan said, and it was all he managed to say for a while. Then he sat back on the chair and looked up at her: "How does that make you feel?"

Emma fidgeted under his watchful eyes. "Ashamed that they make fun of me," she told him. "And that they laugh because you adopted me."

"I understand... well, we both know how we feel about those two things. But I know it might be very embarrassing for you," Alan said, understanding her point of view and truly sympathising with her. "So you reacted to her teasing and started the fight?"

Emma nodded. "I yelled at her, and called her a name, and she hit me first. But I did win the fight, which... well... I think it’s pretty good, that I won, she’s bigger then me."

He shook his head. "Emma, that you won is the least important thing right now. I’m glad it wasn’t you to start it, but don’t you think you might have reacted differently?"

She shook her head no. "I tried to walk away, and I told her to stop it, and she wouldn’t leave me alone! I tried very hard, I really did!"

"And so you hit her back, is that the solution?" he said, sounding not angry, but a bit upset. "You know you are supposed to call a teacher, and/or to contain yourself."

"I tried, aren’t you listening! I had two choices: defend myself or get my arse kicked! And I personally did not want to get all beat up!" she whined.

Damn, she’s right, he thought, but he steeled himself. "Emma, you are not supposed to call her names in the first place, and surely not to fight. By the way: how does she know you’re spanked?"

"There’s like rumours, because sometimes I squirm around a lot at school, and she figured it out! And don’t wash my mouth out please?" Emma begged. She knew the letter told about how she called Melissa a bitch and told her to f-off. She knew that was naughty, but she had really lost her temper at those mean comments.

Alan couldn’t help but smile a little – not on the outside, though – picturing Emma squirming in her seat because of her sore bottom. "Wash your mouth out?" he repeated, then got all suspicious. "Why, Emma? What exactly did you say to Melissa?... or do I have to open that letter in order to know?"

Emma bit her lip. "I called her a bad name and told her to bad word off," she whispered, hanging her head and fidgeting.

Upon hearing this, Alan sighed heavily, now sounding quite upset indeed. "Emma, you know much better than that. I thought we’d solved that out?"

"I know I know better," she started to cry again. "And it just slipped, and I’m so sorry! I’ve been so good about it until now!"

"Tell you what; that Weston girl, well, I hope she gets her desserts at home, because it was very mean of her to tease you; lucky her that she’s not here now. And as for you, if you start offending someone you can’t expect them not to fight you back, right?" he explained, as calmly as he could.

"Yes sir," she squeaked out. "I’m really sorry, daddy, honest, I won’t do it again!... And are you gonna read the letter?"

"You said that last time, too," he said, "and I know you’ve been trying, but evidently not hard enough. And yes I am *definitely* going to read that letter."

Emma was thoroughly ashamed at herself, and went back to the corner on her own, crying harder. It would just be the icing on the cake that she was not allowed back at school tomorrow. Seeing that she went back to the corner hurt Alan, because he knew she must be feeling very sorry, but it was good, because it gave him time to read the letter. He opened the envelope, read through the small paper, and re-closed it.

"Emma," he said. "You have been suspended for three days, and I’m supposed to talk to the Headmaster when you go back. If that is of any consolation to you, Melissa Weston got an even longer suspension: one week."

Emma started sobbing, feeling like such a disappointment to him, and a bother.

Standing up from the chair, Alan went and took her out of the corner. "Look at me. Do you realise how serious this is for you and Melissa? It might compromise your school year."

The young teen nodded, but couldn’t look into his eyes. "I’m so sorry daddy, I’m so ashamed of myself, I feel so terrible inside!" she bawled. "I’m such a screw up!"

"You have every reason to feel ashamed," he said, nodding, "but you are not a ‘screw up’ and you must not generalise. You made a mistake, that’s all, even though it’s a big one."

That did not make Emma feel any better, so she continued to cry. "I’m sorry I disappointed you! I’m so sorry!"

He knew he wasn’t supposed to say it, but for her to grow up, she needed to know the truth: "Yes I’m disappointed, I thought you were smarter than this. But if anything, I love you even more now. And I’m going to spank you right because I love you."

Emma felt incredibly stupid, her little heart full of hurting and sadness. It hurt that he would say that he thought she was smarter then that, even if it was true. She let out a sob and ran out of the study, straight to her room, where she took a dive onto her bed, soaking her pillow with her tears, and squeezing her teddy bear.

Alan sighed, and though he hated doing what he had to do, he still stood up from the chair and walked up the stairs. He entered her room, which door was still cracked open, and saw her crying hard, face-down on the bed. It broke his hear, but he steeled himself and gently took her up from the bed, and sat down himself.

"Emma, honey, you do know that I love you, don’t you?" he said, looking up in her eyes.

"I---I--I’m n---not st---stupid" she hiccuped out

"Stupid? Who said you are stupid?"

She raised her chin at him, tears cascading down her pretty face.

He shook his head, determined: "I did not say you are stupid! I said you should have behaved in a more responsible way and that you should know better. Do you see the difference?"

"You said you thought I was smarter then that, that means you think I’m stupid!" she wailed, resorting to the typical teenager logic.

"Well, it doesn’t mean that," he stated, firm. "I think you’re intelligent and smart, but I also think you do not behave as good as you could. I think you simply don’t mind, sometimes, am I right?"

"I really tried <hiccup> and I know I was bad... <hiccup> don’t be disappointed!" She buried her head in his chest, obviously very upset by her own actions, knowing that they were naughty and wrong, and hating herself for doing those things.

"I am disappointed in your behaviour, not in you," Alan repeated for the Nth time. "And I condemn your actions, not you." And he hugged her back, rocking her a bit, hoping she would calm down a bit and listen.

She hiccuped again. "Should I go to the bathroom?" she whimpered.

He detached from her but kept rubbing her arms. "Yes honey. C’mon," and he offered his hand.

Emma took his hand and let him lead her. "Are--are you gonna use the hairbrush a lot?" she asked, giving a brief shudder.

"Don’t worry about that now," Alan said, deciding he would better delay that aspect until it was time. He stopped before the sink and wet a cloth and aspersed it with generous amounts of soap. "Open up, Emma."

She shook her head no, and before he could swat her, she hugged him very tight, then closed her eyes and opened up. Alan sighed again, but inserted the cloth in her small mouth and proceeded to scrub it thoroughly, from the tongue to the roof of her mouth, and all the teeth, trying to ignore her gagging sounds.

"Breathe through your nose," he said, as he continued.

Emma did breath through her nose, but kept gagging, almost foaming from the soap.

"Foul language is a bad habit, Emma Charlotte," he scolded as he continued, "and though it doesn’t actually hurt anyone, I do NOT want you to use it. There is no need to be rude, you get it?"

Emma gave a quick nod of her head, cringing at the ‘Emma Charlotte’ for that usually was not a good sign at all – was he going to give it to her with the hairbrush??

"Good. I hope this is the *very* last time I have to wash your mouth," and with that he took the cloth out. "Spit, but do not rinse."

Emma spit and gagged for a long moment. "Please?" she begged, still rather foaming.

"No, not this time. I’m sorry I have to be tough, but you will rinse only after your spanking," he said, now having regained his old, steely, calm self.

Emma looked horrified, and her sobs intensified. The look on her face was heart-breaking.

"Come on," Alan said, taking her hand again and leading her out of the bathroom. But before they walked out, he made sure she saw him grabbing the hairbrush from the counter.

As they walked back to her room, Alan could see she was a very frightened and sorry little girl, a shaking and sobbing mess (and the spanking hadn’t even started yet), and it hurt him to see her like that. But still he sat on the chair pulled out from under her table, set the brush on the table and he motioned for her to stand in front of him.

"Emma, you may not believe me, and I know it sounds obsolete and stupid... but this is for your own good."

Emma stood in front of him, her hands over her small bottom, and just cried, too hard to talk, gagging again on the soap from time to time. So Alan met no resistance when he unsnapped and lowered her cargo jeans, which fell right down to her ankles. "Come across my lap, please."

She did as he said, and her hands went to the legs of the chair to keep herself from falling over, her bottom quivering from her nervousness. Alan adjusted her small body across his lap, her feet not even touching the floor, then raised his hand and started spanking her panty-clad behind right away.

"YEOW!" she wailed.

whack whack whack He kept it up for a good minute, planting solid smacks (but not too hard) on her upturned rump.

After a little, Emma began kicking and squirming. "Owwww! Ouch! OWY!!"

As soon as she started kicking, Alan stopped, and with one rapid move peeled down her panties, which fell to her knees, then he reached back to pick up the hairbrush. As she noticed what he was doing, and as she felt her poor bummy now bared, Emma let out a scream, shaking her head no very fast.

"Emma, I don’t want you to ever offend anyone again, or to be aggressive, even when you have the right to do so..." he said while she yelled. "Is that understood?"

"Yes daddy, please!!!!!!!" she begged.

"I know honey, I know." But he raised the brush and smacked it down on her already-pink bare bottom, not very hard, but hard enough she would definitely feel it.

The first smack always struck her with surprise. Her eyes red from the pain, she kicked her legs harder and faster. "NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Soon Alan got into a regular rhythm, spanking Emma thoroughly with the hairbrush, making sure her whole bottom and thighs were covered. The young girl’s back arched with nearly every swat, as she cried and howled at the top of her lungs. Nearing the twentieth swat, she just laid across his lap, and cried her heart out. Soon after she stopped kicking and squirming, Alan knew the punishment should have ended soon. And in fact he delivered only five more smacks before stopping and putting the brush down, though those were real stingers.

Emma choked on her sobs, coughing and hiccuping and gasping. Alan stood her up immediately, and noticed her pants had panties had been kicked out in the process. This made it easier for him to collect her in his arms and let her cry out all she wanted.

"Shh shh it’s over, it’s over," he said as he rocked and cuddled her.

"Burrrrrrrrrrrrrns," she whimpered, still gasping. "Daddy no hate me," she whispered, feeling rather unloved for the moment and speaking like a little child. "Never bad ‘gain"

He hugged her even tighter, keeping her very close to him. "I can never hate you, it’s just impossible. I love you so much Emmy, so, so much... and I know you will be good, I know."

"Hurt toooo much," she blubbered.

"I know it hurts a lot, baby. With some lotion, and time, it will heal. Remember the other ones you got, right?" he said, speaking calmly and soothingly into her ear.

Emma nodded, and for a moment her sobs calmed down as she looked up at him with a sweet, pouty look on her face. "Call me that again..." she whispered.

"Call you what, ‘Emmy’?" he smiled. "Emmy. It’s sweet."

She nodded. "I--I like it... it’s sweet..." she repeated. "Can I rinse now?" she half begged.

"Sure you can. Mind if I carry you?" he said.

Emma nodded, holding tight. Alan lifted her lithe body and walked to the bathroom with her clinging to her neck, then set her down before the sink and ran the water.

"Here you go," he said, caressing her hair.

She rinsed and rinsed and rinsed, but because it had not been done right away, it was like it was plastered to her mouth. Her little face was swollen from so many tears, and her eyes bloodshot. All he could do was stand by her and watch her, hoping she would feel alright, knowing she would, in time, and that she had learnt her lesson.

"Take your time, honey, no hurry." While he waited, he replaced the hairbrush on the counter.

When she finished, Emma waited for him to pick her up again. At first he didn’t understand why she was standing there, still bare from the waist down, and looking at him, but then he realised, and he picked her up.

"Aww... come here," and again he let her hug him.

She buried her head against the crook of his neck, just needing to be held and loved, having felt so very miserable until he had got home and while she had been punished. Like many times before, he felt her hot face against his neck and tears dripping on his shirt, and again he held her, humming to her, kissing her head and murmuring sweet things in her ear. She was not a child, and definitely did not act as one, but in those moments, he felt like having a little girl and not a teenager.

"Daddy, I love you," she whispered

"I love you so much, Emmy," he replied, as his heart melted.

"Are you gonna make me go to bed early?" she asked, starting to get sleepy. She didn’t know why, but crying always made her sleepy.

"Naah, you can stay up as long as you want," he said. "And tell you what, we’re going out for a nice giant pizza tonight, how does that sound?"

Emma giggled between the last of her tears and nodded. "Sounds good, as long as we get a booth and *not* chairs!" She yawned. "Can I take a nap first?"

"Heh, of course, booth sounds fine," he said, kissing her nose. "Sure you can, you got all afternoon."

"Tuck me in?" she asked in a very tiny voice

Alan was expecting such a request, so he slowly walked back to her bedroom, feeling her body go heavier and more relaxed with every step. He moved the bed sheets aside and laid her down, then covered her and tucked her in properly. He kissed her forehead and the teary cheeks.

"I love you, Em."

"Love you daddy," she whispered, her eyes closing.

* * *

A week later, Emma was sitting (comfortably) in her seat at school, when Melissa arrived back. Upon seeing her, she motioned her friends over and, giggling, said to Emma:

"Hey Watson... ooops, Rickman, hehe. You got suspended huh? Did your daddy spank your little baby bummy?" and with that they all burst out laughing.

Emma rolled her eyes. "So what? Did your parents ignore you again, pretend you didn’t exist?"

Melissa got all serious, because it was exactly what had happened. Still, her pride kicked in, and she snapped: "Mind your own fucking business, Rickman. ‘tleast my parents are normal."

"My dad IS normal, and *I* know he loves me. Maybe you’d be a lot nicer to be around if someone spanked you. My parents used to ignore me too, and it’s much better this way. And I’d love to smack your face for you nastiness, and the sore butt would be well worth it... but you know what? You’re not worth disappointing my dad over!"

Just then the bell rang, and Emma smiled in satisfaction as Melissa went to her seat, her mouth hanging open.

click here for pictures of Emma and Alan