Joni asked for a few days to recover after paddling for speeding yet look ahead to the next scene. “What sort of bad language am I gonna be in trouble for?” she asked.

“I was thinking your teacher overheard you repeatedly using the f-word and sent me an email,” I replied.

“That’s perfect,” Joni said excitedly. “How about at my place on Thursday evening. You come in like you’re coming home from work having gotten that note earlier in the day.”

It was tough waiting for Thursday to roll around. I approached her house and tried the front door. It was open so I went right in, locking it behind me.

“Hi, daddy,” Joni said, giving me a hug. She was wearing denim overalls and a pale pink t-shirt.

“Hi, yourself, darlin’” I replied. “We have something serious to discuss. Do you know why your teacher would have emailed me today?” Joni shook her head but with a guilty look, playing the part perfectly. “She overheard you cursing and I’m sure you know how I feel about that.”

“I didn’t use any bad words at school,” Joni pleaded.

“She said she heard you use the f-word repeatedly,” I scolded. “Are you sure you’re telling the truth?”

“I’m sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to curse,” Joni admitted.

“You mean you didn’t intend for the teacher to hear you, right?” I chided and she nodded guiltily. “Go get me the spanking spoon!”

“No, please, daddy! Not that,” Joni begged.

Before our foray into age play, I had come over with coffee and pastries on a Saturday morning. Joni had over-indulged at a party the night before. I selected an unusually large wooden spoon from a crock next to her stove then had her bend over the counter. I pulled down her sweat pants, set a three-minute timer and paddled her ass quite hard with the spoon until the bell rang. After that, she dubbed that utensil the ‘spanking spoon’.

She grumbled as she walked to the kitchen and returned a few moments later with the spoon. I had taken a seat on the couch and she approached my right side and handed me the spoon. I ordered, “Get those overalls down.”

“No, daddy. Please, no!” Joni protested. I laid the spoon in my lap and reached for the overall strap clips near her shoulders. She covered them with her own hands.

“Joni, hands on your head. If you resist, it’s only gonna make your spanking longer and harder,” I warned. She could not help but giggle at the word ‘harder’. She moved her hands and I unfasted the clips and the buttons at her hips, allowing the overalls to fall to her ankles. I pulled down her ‘Hello Kitty’ panties and saw she had gone all-in. She previously kept her pubic hair neatly trimmed but now the whole zone was completely bald. I picked up the spoon and guided her over my lap and began to spank.

After about two minutes, I paused. “Why are you getting spanked?” I asked.

“I said a naughty word,” Joni replied.

“What word?” I prompted.

“Fuck,” Joni said quietly.

“Exactly,” I responded and gave her right cheek five hard successive strikes followed by a similar volley to the left. “Are you getting the message that this sort of language is not acceptable?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered and I gave each cheek another five hard strikes.

“Fuck!” Joni genuinely cried and I responded with another five strikes to each rosy cheek. I lightly caressed her glowing rump, then pulled-up her panties and let her catch her breath.

“What? You’re not gonna corrupt me cuz I’m playing an underage girl?” she whined.

“I’m not immune to persuasion,” I replied.