Lanie's Troubles
		by Don A. Landhill
		Copyright (c) 1997-8, All rights reserved.

Do not copy, distribute, re-post, or publish this story without explicit permission from
the author, who may be reached at dlandhill@aol.com.
                  


	"Lanie, come here." [Silence]

	"Lanie, come here *now*." [Longer silence]

	"Lana, I'm *waiting* for you! Come here!" [Continued Silence]

	"LANA MATILDA JACKSON, you get your little bottom over 
here right *now* or I'm going to start counting to five!"

	The speaker was a distinguished-looking man, in his early forties.  
He had dark-brown hair liberally streaked with gray. He was fairly tall, a 
little over six feet.  He was wearing dark, conservative business clothes, 
with a bright blue tie. The expression on his face was one of exasperation, 
but not real anger.  He was standing on the wooden deck behind a large 
house, tapping his right toe impatiently.  He looked out across the grassy 
area into the wooded region beyond.  There were no other houses nearby.
	
	After a brief wait a girl came out of the woods and hurried over to 
the man.  She was perhaps 22 or 23, although her outfit didn't reflect it.  She 
was wearing a high-waisted yellow and white checked dress, which came to 
just below her knees. There was a wide sash at the waistline. She also wore 
white socks, and sneakers.  Her light blond hair was done into twin braids, 
tied with ribbons, which matched the color of her dress. There was a plastic 
hair clip in the front, on the left side.  The whole effect was light, airy, and 
youthful.  In fact, it looked more appropriate for a girl of eight or ten, than 
for one in her early twenties. 

	She was short and slender.  She couldn't have been more than five 
and a half feet tall, nor weighed more than a hundred and twenty pounds. 
She seemed to be in a pleasant, happy mood.

	As she ran, she called out to the man, "I'm coming, Papa."


	He waited until she came to a stop, just before the three short steps 
which led up to the deck where he was standing. Then he addressed her.  
"Lanie, why did you make me call you *four* times? Is that how you show 
your obedience?"

	"I'm sorry, Papa. I was way back in the woods, watching a squirrel 
climb a tree.  I was afraid I'd scare him if I moved or yelled -- but then I 
thought I'd better come anyway."

	"Indeed you had! From now on, Lanie, you are to come the FIRST 
time I call you, no matter what you are doing.  Do you think that you can 
remember that, Lana Matilda?"

	"Yes, Papa, I'll be very careful." (She was worried.  It was always 
a bad sign when he called her anything other than "Lanie", and "Lana 
Matilda" was considerably worse than just "Lana".)

	"Very well, then.  Tell me, Lanie, what are the rules about playing 
outside?"

	"I'm not to get dirty; I'm not to go near the road; an' I'm not to go 
*too* far away, so I can't hear you call; I'm to be back by dinner time; After 
dinner I can only go out for an hour or two, an' then only if I ask 
permission; an' I'm not to pick any flowers or plants; an' ... an' ... I'm not to 
go out if I'm grounded; ... uh, I think that's all."

	"Are you *sure*, Lanie?  When can you go outside in the first 
place?"

	"Uh, ... Uh... Oh! I know! I can't go out until my homework is 
done, and any chores too.  That's right, isn't it, Papa?"

	"Yes, Lanie, that's right.  I'm glad that you know the rules so well.  
And did you do your homework today? All of it?"

	"Yes, Papa, I did."

	"Are you *sure*, Lana?"

	"Yes, Papa." There was a hesitant note in her voice.

	"Very well, let's see how well you did today.  After all, if you have 
any problems with your homework, it's my job to help you with them, isn't 
it?"

	"But, Papa, I don't need any--" He cut off her protest with a sharp 
command.

	"Come along, Lana."  He turned and led the way across the deck 
and into the house. She scurried along behind.  He went down the hall and 
into a small bedroom, with her tagging close behind.  There were dolls and 
toys scattered about, and more on the shelves.  A bookbag was carelessly 
thrown down on the rumpled twin-size bed. There were some schoolbooks, 
a pad of paper, and a wooden ruler on the small desk under the window. 

	"Your room isn't very neat, is it, Lanie?  Where is your assignment 
book?"

	"No Papa, it's not, I'm sorry.  It's in my bag, Papa."  

	He reached into the bookbag, and brought out a leather-bound 
notebook. The word   "Assignments" was stamped on its cover in gold.  
Turning the pages, he read aloud: "Math, read pages 215-227, and do 
problems 1-12 on pages 228-9.  Well, Lanie, where are your math 
problems?"

	"Here they are, Papa.", she said, handing him a sheet of lined paper 
from the desk.

	"Only the first four problems are here, Lanie.  Where are the rest 
of them?"

	"Well, Papa, I pretty much understood them all, an' my head was 
hurtin', an' I just needed some time outside before I did the rest, so I was 
gonna do 'em after dinner, Papa, I really was... see the first ones are all 
right, so I really did know 'em, an'--"

	" LANA MATILDA JACKSON, I'm surprised at you! You know 
better than that, much better -- or you should.  Lana, Are you allowed to 
play outside after you've done only *some* of your homework? Are you?"

	"No, Papa, I'm sorry." Her eyes were downcast, and her feet were 
shuffling back and forth.

	"What do you do, Lana,  if you want to go outside early, as a 
special break?"

	"I ask... Uh... I hafta ask you for permission, Papa -- But, Papa, 
you weren't home yet, an'... an'... an' I jus' *couldn't* wait any longer Papa.  
I know you'd have let me if you'd been here."

	"So now you're arguing with me, and telling me what I would have 
done, and deciding to give yourself permission to break the rules, are you?  
You need a sharp lesson, Young Lady, and you're going to learn it right 
now.  Hands out! Together! Palms Up!"

	"But Papa, please--"

	"My patience is at an end, Lana Matilda! Now do as you are told, 
or you'll be *very* sorry you didn't, Young Lady! One! ... Two! ... Three! 
...".  

	With no more hesitation she raised her arms so that her hands were 
extended in front of her, at about chest level, with the palms up and flat and 
together.  He stepped over to the desk and picked up the ruler.  He swished 
it through the air to get a feel for it, then stepped beside her, raised the ruler, 
and smacked it down hard across her palms. <Swish SMACK!>

	"OWW!" she cried out, and jerked her arms away to bury the 
punished palms in her armpits.  He waited for a moment, and then said, " 
Get them back out, Lana.  I'm waiting, and if I have to start counting again, 
I'm starting with 'Four', Young Lady."

	Slowly, she eased her hands back to their former place.  As soon as 
they were back in position, <Smack!> "OWW!" He smacked her across the 
palms again.  Three more smacks followed.  She yelled after each one, and 
there were tears at the corners of her eyes by number five.

	"All right, Lana, you can put your arms down now.  You've been a 
very bad girl today, and you're going to have to be punished severely.  
Those five smacks were for arguing with me about your behavior.  We still 
have the matter of your breaking the rules by going outside in the first place 
to address.  But before we get to that -- you told me that you had all your 
homework done, when you hadn't, and you *knew* that you hadn't.  What's 
more, you repeated it when I asked you a second time.  You LIED to me, 
Lana, you lied to me *TWICE*.  If there is one rule that I *absolutely* 
*INSIST* on, it is that you not LIE to me.  We'll deal with this right now!"

	"But Papa--"

	"Not another word out of your mouth, Bad Girl!  You won't make 
so much as one sound unless you want to get yourself in even deeper 
trouble than you are already -- if that's even possible."

	He took hold of the back of her skirt, and folded it up several 
times,  Then he tucked it into her sash, so that from the back she had 
nothing on but her panties below the waist.  She was wearing simple white 
cotton briefs, with pastel pink and yellow flowers printed on them.  He took 
her by her left earlobe, and marched her ahead of him out of the room and 
down the hall.  Every couple of steps he smacked her panty-covered rear, to 
encourage her not to dawdle. The constant pressure on her earlobe served 
the same purpose.  She squirmed, but didn't say anything. Their progress 
ended up in a bathroom, with her standing right in front of the sink.  He 
released her ear and stopped smacking her behind.

	"Lana Matilda, what happens to bad little girls who tell lies?" he 
asked in a very stern voice. He paused, looking at her reflection in the 
mirror over the sink, but she remained silent.  "I'm waiting Lana - answer 
my question! What happens to little liars in this house?"  He paused again.  
Still she was silent, her eyes downcast, refusing to meet his in the mirror.  
Her right foot scuffed at the floor, loud in the silence.  "*LANA!* 
ANSWER me! Now, Young Lady!"

	"Uh, I, ... Papa, I, ... Oh--" She was crying too hard to speak.  He 
waited silently, until at least she got her voice under control.  "I"[Sob] "get 
my mouth washed out ... uh with ... uh ...  with *soap*.  But please, Papa -
" 

	"That's enough out of you, young lady!  I don't want to hear any 
excuses or pleas for lenience this time.  Open your mouth and take what 
you've got coming to you!"  He picked up a large bar of yellow soap, and a 
washcloth.  Turning on the water, he raised a lather on the soap and worked 
it into the washcloth.  Saying "Open wide, now and stay open.", he set 
down the bar of soap, and used the washcloth to thoroughly scrub the inside 
of  her mouth.  He paid extra attention to her tongue, scrubbing both top 
and bottom several times.  His right hand held the back of her head, 
twisting it back and forth, as he peered at the inside of her mouth, or rather 
at its reflection in the mirror.   After several minutes of scrubbing, he 
removed  the washcloth from her mouth and hung it on its bar.

	"Open up again."  He picked up the bar of soap, and inserted it 
lengthwise into her mouth, with about one third sticking out.  "Bite down, 
and hold that soap in place.  Don't let it go, if you know what's good for 
you, Lana.  Now put your hands on the sink and bend forewards.  Stick that 
naughty little bottom of yours out, and don't lose hold of the soap." He 
drew back his hand and swatted her panty-covered bottom, hard.  Again 
and again he spanked her, until tears were running down her face and some 
very funny sounds were making their way around the bar of soap clenched 
tight between her teeth.  After some two dozen swats he stopped.  "All 
right, open your mouth and let me take the soap." He removed the bar from 
her mouth and set it back in its dish.  "Let that remind you never to lie, 
particularly not to me.  If this isn't enough to cure you of lying, we can 
wash your mouth out every night for a week.  Would you like that, Lana?"

	"Nuh ... No, Papa. I'll be good.  I promise not to lie to you again."

	"Very well.  Come along with me."  He took her by the earlobe 
again, and marched her back down the hall and into the bedroom.  Again he 
encouraged her to keep moving with an occasional swat. When he got her 
there, he pointed to the bed, indicating that she should sit down.

	"You've been a very bad little girl today, haven't you, Lanie?  Tell 
me what you've done wrong and what you still need to be punished for."

	"I ... uh, ... I didn' do my math problems, an' ... an' I went outside 
anyway, an' I lied about my homework, an' ... uh, ... oh yeah, an' I argued 
wit' you.  I'm sorry I was so naughty, Papa.  I guess I'm gonna get a 
spankin' now?  Please don't spank me *too*  hard, Papa, `cause I'm awful 
sorry, really I am.  Please, Papa?"

	"LANA, didn't you forget something?  What else did you do today 
that was naughty?

	"Uh, I didn' do anythin' else, Papa, I, ... oh yeah, I didn't come 
when you first called me.  An' you already smacked me for arguin', an' you 
washed my mouth *and* smacked me for the lies, so there's only the other 
stuff left I guess - right, Papa?"

	"Yes, Lana, that's right.  You must still be punished for breaking 
the rules by going out without doing your homework, and for not coming 
when called.  You have been quite naughty today, young lady, and you 
need to learn a good lesson. I want you to remember this the next time that 
you think about breaking the rules."  

	He sat down on the bed beside her.  "Now you are coming over 
my lap, little girl."  He lifted her up and set her across his legs, with the bed 
supporting the rest of her body.  He lifted her legs with one hand, and 
pulled her panties down to her lower thighs with the other.  Then he let her 
down again, and placed his left hand in the small of her back.  "Now, Lana 
Matilda, you're going to be spanked, good and hard.  This is what happens 
to bad little girls in this house, and this is what will happen to you whenever 
you misbehave.  Let this be a lesson to you, and maybe I won't have to 
spank you again for a while.  Here it comes!"

	He raised his right hand, and brought it down with a sharp smack 
on her bare buttocks.  Over and over he smacked her.  Right, left, and 
center; high and low; all over her rear his hand struck, again and again.  
When she reached back to try to protect her bottom, he sized both of her 
hands in his left, and held them firmly against her back. He didn't say 
anything further.  She let out a "huh" of breath at each stroke.  Soon these 
turned into "OW"s and "Ouch"s, and after a while tears began to flow from 
her eyes.  Between strokes she pleaded and promised, trying to bring an end 
to her punishment, although without much hope, and to no effect.

	"Please Papa, OW, I'll be good OUCH very good OW! I won' 
break the rules OW I'll do my homework OH! I won' go out OUCH 
without permission OW I won' lie ever OUCH *ever* again OO-OO I 
promise YEOW Please Papa OW don' spank OW me anymore YEOW 
SOB Please...."

 	He did not seem to listen to any of her pleas and promises - he 
kept on spanking until her entire bottom was bright red and she went limp 
over his lap, ceasing to kick, ceasing to plead, only sobbing and crying out 
at each new spank.  This took perhaps fifteen minutes, and well over a 
hundred spanks, perhaps a hundred and fifty.  Then he paused for several 
seconds.  He resumed the spanking, but this time the target was her upper 
thighs.  She kicked a bit, but soon lay still again.  After a dozen spanks to 
each thigh, he stopped again.  Slowly and gently he rubbed her back, until 
her sobs subsided.  "All right, Lanie.  It's all right.  I still love you.  Now 
get yourself up off my lap, and over to the corner for a bit.  That's right, 
you can do it.  Come on.  No, leave your panties alone, I want your bottom 
to stay bare for a bit longer.  That's right, get your nose in the corner, and 
no rubbing - front or back.  Hands at your sides."

	He let her stand in the corner, her well spanked bare bottom on 
display, for about twenty minutes.  Her tears had stopped, and her breath 
was coming much more evenly.  She hadn't said a word while she was 
standing there, she knew better.  Only a faint trembling of her body 
betrayed her strong emotional state.

	"All right, Lanie, come out of the corner and back over here.  Now 
you were a very naughty little girl today, and that's why you got spanked.  
Do you understand that?"

	"Yes Papa, I understand, and I'm very sorry for having been such 
a naughty girl that you had to spank me." She was standing in front of him, 
looking down at the floor, as she spoke.

	"That's good.  Now I want you to remember this punishment for a 
very long time indeed; so you're coming back across my lap for a short 
dose of the hairbrush.  Then-"

	"NO, Papa! I've had enough spankin'! I-"

	"LANA MATILDA JACKSON, you don't *ever*  tell me `No' 
about a punishment, much less speak to me in that tone of voice.  You get 
yourself over my lap, and you do it NOW if you know what's good for you, 
young lady!  One! Two! Three!" 

	"I'm sorry Papa, I'm coming, please stop counting." Quickly she 
crawled onto the bed and over his lap, stretching herself out flat, ready to be 
paddled.  Securing both of her hands with his left again, he picked up the 
hairbrush, which he had set out while she was in the corner, with his right.  
He placed the flat back of the brush lightly on her rear, and rubbed it 
around.

	"I was going to give you only a dozen with the brush, but after that 
outburst we'll make it a dozen and a half, Miss.  I trust that you won't 
forget this anytime soon."  He raised the brush high, and brought it down 
hard across the center of her bottom.  She yelled loudly.  The next was 
lower, right where her weight would come when she sat.  Again she yelled, 
and again he spanked. After the tenth she went limp again, and when he had 
delivered the full eighteen strokes, she was crying freely and continuously.  

	He released her hands, and again rubbed her back.  After a bit she 
started to rub her own bottom, very gingerly.  Before too long her sobs 
became intermittent, and then ceased.

	"There, Lanie, there now, you spanking is all over.  You were 
naughty, you got punished, and that's the end of it.  Now snuggle up to 
Papa for a bit, and you'll feel much better.  Come on, Lanie, be Papa's good 
little girl again."  She slowly rose up onto her knees, and leaned against 
him.  She put her arms around him, and lowered her head onto his chest.  
He put his arms around her in turn.  They stayed like that for a long time.

	Finally, he spoke.  "All right, Lanie, it's time to get yourself ready 
for bed.  Put your clothes away, wash up, and get into your nightgown.  
Then go to bed, and in the morning all this will be behind us and you'll be 
my *good* little girl again, all ready for a good day.  No supper tonight, but 
you can have french toast or pancakes in the morning if you want, and if 
you're good, we can go to the park *and* a movie on Saturday. Now go on 
with you, Lanie, OK?"

	"Ok, Papa.  I'm real sorry about today, and I promise to be very 
ver good for you from now on."

	"That's all right, Lanie, I know you will.  And I want you to know 
that Papa always loves you, even when you've been naughty, even when I 
have to spank you.  In fact, if I didn't love you, O would bother to punish 
you when you need it.  Now go on, and get yourself into bed lickety split, 
and maybe we'll have a *short* bedtime story - even though you don't 
usually get one when you're sent to bed early.  Scoot!"

	After she had been tucked into bed, and the story had been duly 
read, he turned out the lights and left her alone.  Several hours later, he 
looked in at her peacefully sleeping form.  "Oh Lanie", he whispered to 
himself, "you don't know how much I love you.  The sight of you sleeping 
there is almost too much for me. I don't know what I'd do without you.  
Goodnight, baby.  Tomorrow will be a wonderful day."

		The End.



-D.A.L.
 1998