Meryl's Punishment

Meryl knew things would only get worse for her if she refused, so like the dutiful, obedient student she was, she began to strip. Her hands trembled the entire time, so much so she had difficulty at first undoing her shoelaces. When she finally managed it, she placed her shoes on the ground in front of her, one and then the other. Her socks gleamed white against the dull grey stone of the campus, she looked back up at her father, his face was devoid of any kind of mercy or sympathy. He stared her down, and she broke off her gaze first, unnerved by the look in his eyes. Next came her socks, by now she was starting to sweat all over, so she had some trouble getting them off, struggling for several protracted moments as the left one slowly peeled off of her foot, then tucking it into a ball abd placing it in the corresponding shoe, before starting the process over again with the other sock.

She looked down at her bare feet, her toenails were painted white, the result of a fleeting whim she'd experienced two weeks ago. The stone was cold and rough against her soles, but she tried to ignore it, not wanting to kick up a fuss. What was Daddy going to do? Surely he wasn't...no, that would be...

Under the blanket she still wore, Meryl shimmied out of her skirt, wincing as it fell with a light rustle to the floor. She was now well and truly bottomless, the blanket was the only thing between her and...exposure. She rubbed her thighs together unconsciously, then stopped, not wanting to appear nervous. By now, passers-by were noticing something was amiss, and a few intrigued students were slowing down or even stopping to observe Meryl's strange, understated striptease. She saw a few of them out of the corner of her eye, and shook her head, feeling panic rising in her throat. "D—daddy, no! I can't...you can't! Not here!"

Her father observed her in silence for what felt like an age, then he stood up and walked over to her. "Meryl...you'll always be my daughter, but right now, you need to be taught a lesson." With a speed Meryl wouldn't have thought possible, he reached up and whipped the blanket from her shoulders. Meryl saw it happen as if in slow motion, felt the comforting warmth and weight of the blanket leave her, and then felt that peculiar weightlessness that comes from being observed in one's most **** state. All she was wearing, all that she had to cover herself, was the ruined blouse, but it was small comfort, given the lack of anything else. Her face burned, and she immediately dropped into a defensive pose, her knees bent and turned inward in a futile attempt at hiding her pussy from her father and the assembled crowd. An unexpected drawback of this pose was that it **** her derriere to jut outwards, as if she were flaunting it to the assembled crowd. She only realised her mistake when wolf whistles started going up behind her, accompanied by the odd camera flash as the crowd grew. "Daddy!" She said, desperately, trying to move a hand to cover her majestic butt while she reassumed the disturbingly familiar arm cross to shield her 'scrumptious titties' as Cheryl had so accurately put it.

Her father didn't respond, he simply reached out again and snatched her blouse away, tearing it in the process as she tried to keep it on. He threw the ruined clothing to the ground, and beckoned for her by curling an index finger. Meryl was overcome with embarrassment, after all that had happened to her today, for her Dad to come back into her life like this and make it even worse? It was almost too much to bear. Meryl rotated on the spot, looking for a way out, even as the crowd swelled and tightened in a circular formation around her and her father. She strongly considered bolting despite her nakedness, when she felt her father's firm hands around her waist. All the fight went out of her, then, and all she could manage was feeble protestations of, "Daddy, no!" and "Not here! Not in front of all these people!" He paid her no mind as he sat back down, **** into a horizontal lying position on his lap and slowly started raising his hand to hover over her buttocks. Meryl didn't dare try to wriggle out of his grip, but she did look up at him with her best doe eyes, eyes that brimmed with tears. "Please...Daddy, they'll never forget, I'll always be..." She trailed off, her bottom lip quivering. He looked away, unable to bring himself to make eye contact with her, instead he said, "Turn around, I don't want to see your face..."

Meryl stared pleadingly at him for another moment or two, then reluctantly turned her head so that she was looking straight down at the ground. She could feel the rough texture of her dad's jeans chafing against her delicate thighs, and the soft, sparse pubic hairs adorning her crotch pressing into his legs. Her breasts hung down, nipples pointing toward the floor — as only her midriff could truly fit on his lap — while her legs hung awkwardly in the air on the opposite end, so that she had to curl her legs upwards to avoid her feet touching the floor. There was something unintentionally coquettish about it — if you couldn't properly see Meryl's face, as many members of the crowd couldn't, you might have the mistaken impression that she was looking forward to what came next.

Meryl tried to calm her breathing as the seconds passed, and then she felt him tense, and she knew it was coming. Mr Prentiss' first blow was weak, halting, he didn't want to hurt his daughter, not really. Despite its relative delicacy, Meryl still exclaimed loudly as her father swatted her left arse cheek with the flat of his hand. The offending cheek gave a little jiggle, and Meryl reflexively kicked a leg back and forth. The second blow was a little harsher, there was more power behind it, a surer kind of intent. Meryl squealed as hand contacted sharply with soft, springy flesh. Another jiggle. The crowd approved, judging by the animated chatter emanating from it. Meryl watched with dismay as flashes went off on phone cameras. "Daddy, please can we do this at ho—" She interrupted herself to yelp as Mr Prentiss spanked her a third time, harder still. Meryl choked back a sob, sniffling loudly, from the crowd, someone yelled, "Nice arse, Prentiss!"

Meryl looked down, too ashamed to even try and see who'd said it. Another hit came down on her luscious teenage booty, she let out another cry of pain. "Daddy! Daddy, stop!" She shrieked, her sense of decorum had abandoned her along with her clothes, she was losing her mind as she lay there, exposed and punished before an ever-increasing crowd of her peers. "Daddy!"

She had to explain, he would stop this if only he understood that it wasn't her fault! "Daddy! You don't understand, I didn't mean for any of this to happen! It all started when...my panties were stolen, and then I—I fell onto a boy, and Cheryl...Cheryl did things to my butt—" Her frantic babbling was cut off as Mr Prentiss shook his head in disgust and planted another sharp smack on Meryl's reddening rear. She squealed and bucked upwards, her butt rising higher into the air toward her father's face, when it came back down, her labia came to rest on her father's knee — he didn't seem to notice.

"We didn't raise you not to take responsibility," he said, spanking her again. "And we didn't raise you to let strange girls do things to your butt, now did we?"

Meryl groaned loudly, then renewed her pleading, "N-no, Daddy you didn't! I didn't want any of it to happen, it just did! My clothes...they kept coming off and I-I couldn't stop it! I didn't want to be naked! I didn't want anybody to see my boobs or my...my kitty!" She self-consciously tried to cup her hand over her exposed vulva, but managed only to squirm in such a way as to expose it further, before drawing her hand back when her father's iron hand came down again. "I didn't want anybody to see my butt! Or for...for..."

Mr Prentiss glared down at that round, round expanse of red he had been striking. "For what, Meryl?"

She hid her face, hair falling around it. "For anything to...go up there..."

Mr Prentiss' only response was another, still harsher swat. Unbenknownst to Meryl, he turned his hand in preparation to hit her with the back of it this time, a fair-sized signet ring on his finger now poised to strike her rump with a fierceness. Meryl braced herself for the next strike, but couldn't have imagined how bad the reality of it was going to be. Mr Prentiss gave a brief glance up at the crowd, then back down at his daughter, and brought his hand down. The ring's angular, jewelled top bit deep into Meryl's defenceless cheek, and her eyes positively bulged as the almighty sting radiated across that ripening peach below her back. She tried to hold back a scream, but it was no use. The campus echoed with Meryl Prentiss' incoherent shrieks, and she began to kick out with her legs wildly as she lost control of herself. "DADDY! DADDY IT HURTS! PLEASE STOP IT HURTS IT HURTS!" She yelled. "I'LL BE GOOD, I'LL NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THIS AGAIN! IT'LL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN I SWEAR!"

No reply, save for another smack with the signet ring, this time on her other cheek. Her screams reached a somehow even higher pitch, and the sheer cacophony of it drew in yet more students, and even tutors who couldn't help but succumb to curiosity. Each word she screamed now was interrupted by little gasps for breath, "DA-A-A-DY! PLE-E-E-ASE! IT HU-U-U-RTS!"

Mr Prentiss shook his head, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Mhm, where does it hurt, Meryl?"

"MY BU-U-TT!"

"...Your what? I didn't quite catch that, sweetie."

"MY BUTT! MY TUSHIE! MY—MY BO-O-TY!"

"Where does it hurt, Meryl?" Mr Prentiss hissed. "Here?!" He suddenly raised his voice and struck her again.

"Y-E-E-S! YES! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!"

"Alright, Meryl." He smacked her again, the strike punctuated by another wail from his unfortunate daughter. "But before I stop, I want you to say something. I want you to say it nice and loud for all these people to hear, alright?"

Meryl nodded, her body wracked by her sobs. Mr Prentiss waited for a beat, then continued. "I want you to say: 'I've been a bad girl, the worst kind of girl. I've let down my family and I've let down myself. I had to be spanked because what I did was bad, I deserve this."

Meryl hesitated, took a deep, ragged breath, then recited, "I—I've been a b—bad girl, the worst k—kind of girl. I've...I've let down my family and..." she cringed, a fresh wave of awareness and creeping humiliation washing over her. "And I've let down myself. I had to be...to be s—spanked," she was cut off by one last wallop to her right bum cheek, and she closed her eyes for a few moments to absorb the pain before she continued. "Because what I did was bad...I deserve this." She knew even as she finished the speech that she was being recorded and photoed by dozens of people on their phones, she would never escape this, never live it down, she would spend the rest of her days being known as Meryl Prentiss, the girl who was spanked while completely naked by her own father, right there in the middle of campus. Hidden amongst the crowd, Cheryl was watching like a hawk, all but salivating at the sumptuous display Meryl's father had served up for her. Elsewhere, Victoria was suppressing shocked, uncontrollable giggles as she filmed every second of Meryl's heaven-sent ****.

Mr Prentiss finally relented, unceremoniously picking Meryl up and shoving her to her feet. She tottered forward away from him, unsteady and skittish, like a baby deer on a frozen lake, shellshocked by the onslaught she'd just been subjected to. Her mascara was running thanks to her tears, and she hadn't even the presence of mind left to cover herself; so she stood there, clad in her birthday suit and nothing else, eyes wide and filled with confusion as the cameras kept on snapping and the video kept on recording, while all around her jeering kept on coming from the assembled crowd. Meryl blinked, the lone thought rattling around in her head was composed one word: Kayla. She searched and searched, hoping Kayla was somewhere in the crowd, but as the seconds slipped on by she became despondent as no sign of her presented itself. Kayla would have known what to do, Kayla could have stopped this, Meryl was sure of it. Alone, she could only stand here, her mind addled by what she'd just been subjected to. Kayla would know what to do, Kayla would know what to do, Kayla would...

The only other thing that came to mind was the unshakeable notion that she'd done something wrong, behaved rashly or...or taken a wrong turn somewhere. Cheryl's face swam before her, and she wondered if eating her friend out might not have been such a big price to pay after all, not when the alternative was...this. Helpless, she turned back to her father, trying vainly to cover her crotch and her chest. He was looking at her with such shame, such disappointment.