"So did you enjoy tonight? Truthfully, now."
She swung round in her seat, her eyes glowing. "Oh, Dad, it was fantastic."
"Was it like you expected?"
"I don't know. I don't know what I expected." She laid a hand on my knee and said earnestly, "I got so worked up when you spanked me and even more worked up with Kieran, he's dreamy by the way, and seeing you and Margo going at like rabbits - I nearly came on the spot. I didn't realise it would be such a turn on. All of it - the spanking, the four of us, the whole scene."
"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," I laughed weakly. I hadn't anticipated such an enthusiastic response.
I drew into the side of the road and stopped. "Gemma, we need to talk."
"What? Three times in a month? That's way too much."
I chuckled then sobered. "Seriously we do need to sort a few things out. Firstly, I assume from your reaction that you'd like to go back?"
She nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow if possible."
"Tomorrow might be a bit soon."
"Well, okay, the day after."
"Gemma, please be serious for a minute."
"Sorry, Dad."
I cleared my throat nervously. "Gemma, your mother and I have been married for seventeen years and this is the first time I've been unfaithful to her."
Her eyes widened. "I never thought of that."
I grimaced. "Well, I have to."
"Do you… Do you still love Mum?"
"I do. Very much."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Did you enjoy tonight?"
"I did. I shouldn't have but I did. And before you ask, I'd like to do it again, too." I took a deep breath. "Right now I feel like two people. One of me is solid, respectable Gerry who loves his beautiful wife and darling daughters. The other me is a sick pervert who gets his kicks from spanking his teenage daughter's bare bottom, has sex with strange women and enjoys watching his sexy daughter being fucked by strange men. Which of them am I really? I don't know. Perhaps I'm both. It would be good if I could keep them in little compartments. You know, be the nice me most of the time and trot out the nasty me every other Thursday but, somehow, I don't think it works like that."
Gemma was looking at me sympathetically. "You're wrong about one thing, you know. Both you's are nice. They're just nice in different ways." She looked thoughtful. "But I know what you mean. Mum and I talk a lot. Usually I tell her everything." She stopped and blushed. "Well, perhaps not quite everything, but everything that's important. I can't tell her about this, can I."
I shook my head. "No. Neither of us can. But your mother's not stupid. She's going to notice our relationship has changed and she's going to ask questions."
She was quiet for a moment. "Does Hazel's mum know?"
It was a perceptive question. "No, I don't think so."
"So how do they manage?"
"I don't really know. I don't think Jack and Donna have such a close relationship."
"Oh." Another pause. "Do you think Mum would want to, sort of, join in?" she asked hesitantly?
"Would you like her to?"
"Um, I don't know."
"Actually, I've been wondering the same thing?"
"Would you like her to join in?"
I grinned. "Yes." I leaned towards her and spoke in a loud whisper. "She's got a very nice bottom, you know."
"Dad," Gemma exclaimed in a shocked tone, but she was giggling.
I sat back and was silent. As we had been talking, Gemma's hand had been idly stroking my knee. I was very aware of it. It was a nice hand and its touch was very pleasant. I looked over at Gemma. She was sitting, half turned towards me. Her skirt had ridden up, revealing a long expanse of smooth, slender thigh. My cock began to stir. 'This is ridiculous,' I thought. 'I've already seen her naked so how can I be getting turned on by a glimpse of thigh?'. Gemma smiled hesitantly at my scrutiny.
I sighed. "Well, I don't think we're going to solve all our problems tonight. Let's just play it cool and see what happens. But I think we should keep our visits to our normal Thursdays, at least for the time being."
I could see she was disappointed but was very proud of her when all she said was, "Okay, Dad."
I patted the hand on my knee. We drove the rest of the way in silence, the earlier euphoria of the evening had dissipated. It was a pity but reality has a nasty way if intruding on fantasy: that's what this evening had been - a fantasy.
As it was we needn't have worried about Marion's reaction. She greeted us with a worried face.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Mum."
"What's happened to Gran?" Gemma cried.
"It's all right, dear, it's nothing critical. She's had an accident. She's fallen off a step-ladder and hurt her leg."
I chuckled. "I know it's not funny," I said contritely. "But what on earth was she doing up a step-ladder? Your mother gets dizzy standing on the bathroom scales."
Marion gave a wan smile. "You know, I forgot to ask."
"Do you want to go and see her?"
"I'll pop over at the weekend. Dad says she's fine. It's not broken, just bruises and ligaments"
"Okay. You want me to drive you over?"
"No, I'll take a train. Do you want to come, Gemma?" Gemma nodded. She was very fond of her Gran. "Connie can't come as she's got that competition on Sunday. So I'll leave you to fend for yourselves."
"No problem. We'll be fine. I'm sure your mum will be okay but I'll bet your dad will be glad of a rest."
Marion laughed. She'd obviously been fretting and now things were decided, she had relaxed. "You're right. We'll go on Saturday and come back on Sunday."
"Let me know when you're due and I'll pick you up."
She stretched up and kissed my cheek. "Thanks."
"What for?"
"You're always so calm when there's a crisis."
Little did she know! I had been far from calm the last few weeks. "Your mother hurting her leg is hardly a crisis, but thanks anyway."
I took Marion and Gemma to the station early on Saturday morning. Connie and I waved them off then picked up two of her team-mates and drove to her competition.
Connie does gymnastics. She's quite good; good enough, at least, to represent her club in competitions, but she'll never be a professional gymnast. For one thing she's too tall and, more importantly, she was beginning to swell in all the wrong places for a gymnast. Today I watched the girls with new eyes. Many of them were underdeveloped, like many gymnasts were - by that I mean they looked much younger that their true ages. But some, especially the older girls, were decidedly feminine. I found myself admiring the thrust of teenage breasts encased in tight leotards, the movement of neat, tightly muscled bottoms and the swell of lycra-encased pubic mounds.
I shook my head to clear it of these salacious thoughts but that sent my mind off on another train of thought. Why had I never looked at the girls like that before? I had been attending gymnastic competitions for four years but had always seen the girls and, well, girls - Connie's team-mates and fellow competitors. So why, all of a sudden, was I seeing them as attractive young women? What was different about them? I pondered over this until it struck me that it wasn't the girls who had changed, it was I. My experiences with Gemma and the Slipper Club had forced me to become aware of her as a person in her own right and that, in turn, had made me start to look at other girls - women too, probably - in the same way. Perhaps Marion was right and I had been living in another planet.
When Marion and Gemma returned on Sunday, Marion was uncharacteristically distracted.
"Is your mother okay?" I asked anxiously.
"Oh, yes, she's fine." She grinned. "She's been told to rest her leg for a couple of weeks and is having a fine old time. Poor Dad's been running around after her like a demented chicken."
I laughed. "Do him good. He's a lazy old sod."
"Gerry!" she said indignantly. "That's unkind - but true." She grinned.
"When she's had her fun she'll be up and doing again. Your mum's not one for sitting idle."
She sighed. "I know. I only hope she doesn't overdo it. She's not getting any younger."
I gave her a hug. "She'll be fine. You worry too much. Still, if you want to go and stay over for a few days…"
She shook her head. "No. I don't think so." I noticed Gemma making urgent-looking gestures at me behind her mother's back. "You go and sit down. Gemma and I will make supper."
In the kitchen Gemma rounded on me. "Dad, we need to talk. Mum's been asking about the club."
My heart sank. I hadn't thought of thought of the pair of them ensconced in a train for a couple of hours. "Oh! What's the damage?"
Gemma grinned, "It's okay. I may be young but I ain't dumb. I had to do a bit of quick thinking, though."
"Make your mum a cup of tea and tell me about it."
She did so while I dug food out of the fridge for supper.
"Well, first off, she asked me where we went on Thursdays. It took me by surprise so I asked her whether she thought I'd changed. That gave me a bit of time to think. I decided to tell her a bit of the truth about me and why you took me to the club."
I nearly dropped the plate I was holding. "How did she react?"
Gemma saw my expression. She put a hand on my arm and looked at me calmly enough but her eyes were worried. "Dad, she's cool about it. She'll talk to you later but she wants us to continue going." She couldn't keep the edge of excitement from her voice.
I stared at her open-mouthed. "How did you wangle that?"
"Cos I'm clever, that's why," she said smugly. The kettle boiled and she turned away to make the tea, deliberately leaving me on tenterhooks.
"Come on, Gemma, give," I demanded, when she came back. "Or do I have to spank you?"
"Oh, no," she leered. "You can only do that on Thursdays." I growled in mock frustration. "Keep your hair on. Gemma will explain all.
"I said I'd asked her if she thought I'd changed and she said yes, she thought that both of us had changed for the better and that she knew I was just going through a phase. It was then I told her the truth about me and my friends. She was shocked. I've never seen her look like that. She just sat and stared at me like I was a stranger or something. It was scary."
"Well, I suppose you were a stranger in a way. If she didn't know about all that stuff that was going on it must have come as a bit of a shock."
"I suppose. Anyway I told her that I was out of control and you knew it and you took me to a club that Mr Wilkins had heard about. She wanted to know all about it." She bit her lip anxiously. "I hope I did it right, Dad. I had to sort of think on my feet."
"I'm sure you did, sweetheart. What exactly did you tell her."
"I said there were other people, boys and girls and their mums and dads, who were like me. I said we were forced to think about what we were really doing and face up to the trouble we were causing." She giggled. "I told her it was very painful. I think she thought I meant emotionally."
I laughed. "Clever girl."
"I made up lots of lurid stories about how bad some of the other people were. I told her what Felix said about going to jail as soon as you were eighteen. I said at first I didn't believe it: that I thought it was just a lot of adult bullshit, then I talked about that article, you know, about Andy going to gaol." I nodded. "I said that it was then I started to realise it was all true and that I really was out of control. I cried a bit. Then I said how good you'd been and how patient and everything and how I enjoyed going now and how I felt much closer to you now. Oh, and I told her it was working 'cos I've stopped seeing all these people as I now realise they're not really clever and exciting at all."
My expression must have been a picture. "And she bought it?" She nodded, looking very worried.
"You're not cross then?"
I gathered her in my arms and gave her a huge hug. "Cross? Gemma, you're a wonder. I've been trying to work out what to say to your mum and you've done it all. I couldn't have explained it better if I'd thought about it for a month."
She hugged me back. "I was so worried I'd blown it. I didn't think I had but…"
I held her at arms length and looked into her eyes. "I'm very proud of you. Now, let's get this supper made."
I practically danced round the kitchen. I managed to calm myself down enough to appear natural over supper.
After the girls had gone up to their rooms, Marion sat beside me on the settee.
"Gemma and I had a long talk this weekend," she began.
"Hmm?"
"Tell me about this club you go to."
I gave a silent prayer of thanks that Gemma had briefed me and hoped I wouldn't blow it. "Well, you know she was running out of control?"
She looked away. Marion has never been good at admitting she's wrong. "I suppose so."
"There's no 'suppose' about it. One of the things the club did was to find out about her so-called friends. It doesn't make pretty reading. A whole lot of crime, both minor and major, and two of them now in gaol."
She sighed. "Okay, I admit it. I was wrong." From Marion, this was quite an admission.
I put my arm round her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I didn't know any of this at the time. I just knew something was wrong and if I didn't do something about it there would be trouble."
I paused to gather my thoughts. "It was Jack Wilkins who put me on to it. I shouldn't tell you this really, but Hazel got into a spot of bother and it helped her."
"Hazel? Hazel Wilkins? But she's the nicest girl you could meet."
"I know. I didn't believe him at first. Anyway I was desperate and it seemed to work for Hazel so I dragged Gemma along. She really didn't want to go at first. It was tough going. After a while, she began to accept she was out of line. Now we've got over that hurdle she's starting to enjoy it. Last week was the first time she actually wanted to go. I think we've got our daughter back." I looked fondly down at Marion and planted a kiss on her head. "The strangest thing is that, although it's been tough on Gemma, I found it tough, too."
"What do you mean?"
"I suppose I've always thought of Gemma as my little girl and subconsciously treated her like that. But she's not a little girl any more and, in making her face up to reality, I've been had to do the same - I've had to stop seeing her as a child and start regarding her as a young woman."
I could feel her nodding. "I see what you mean. I suppose as she's a girl, I've never had that problem. I've always been aware of her growing up. Tell me, what do you actually do there?"
This was the question I'd been dreading. "Well, in part it's sort of like therapy. The kids are forced to confront all sorts of unpleasant facts and think about why they behave the way you do and the effect it has on others. At the same time the adults are forced to question why they don't like their child's behaviour and that sort of thing. And the rest of it is social. We've all been through the same sort of experiences - we've something in common, if you know what I mean."
She sat upright and looked at me seriously. "Do you want to continue going?"
"Well, I don't suppose we need to any more. Gemma's seen the error of her ways and stopped hanging about with these people."
"Yes, but do you want to go?"
I paused as if thinking about it although I knew the answer already. "Yes, I think I would. I've got to know a few of the people and I know Gemma likes them. So, yes, I would like to go."
"Then I think you should. I don't think you realised it, Gerry, but you were getting very uptight. I think this place is doing you as much good as it's doing Gemma."
I was surprised. "Really. Was I that bad?"
She grinned. "Not really. I'm sure nobody else noticed it but I know you, Gerry Entworth."
I felt a guilty pleasure. I didn't like deceiving Marion. We'd been married a long time and had always been open and honest with each other. But I knew I wanted to experience more of the thrills of spanking my beautiful daughter's delectable behind and the hot thrills of Margo. "Okay," I said as calmly as I could. "Now that the formal sessions are finished, we can be more flexible about when we go. Perhaps we could go once a week, if Gemma wants to."
"Whenever. Just as long as you don't interfere with my evening class or Connie's training or homework."
I frowned. "But that will mean we could only go about once every three months," I complained, then grinned at Marion's disgusted expression.
"Oh, you," she punched me playfully on the arm.
I scooped her into my arms and kissed her soundly. She wormed her arms around my neck and held me tight. I put away all feelings of guilt and took my cuddly wife up to bed.