That day on the beach it was too windy, not warm enough to swim and Dad
was worried about undertow.  We had the beach to ourselves.  I tried to
build sand castles but he didn't want to help so it was boring.  I
tried flirting him into play by throwing sand on him, but he said that
I was looking for a swat.  He closed his eyes and snoozed.  Usually,
searching for shells is fun but I found only broken pieces that day. 
It seemed like the wind had blown all the fun of the beach out to sea.

I saw a guy down the beach trying to surf but not having much luck.  He
was wearing a wetsuit and I wanted a closer look.  There were big,
jagged rocks in my way so I waded a bit into the water to get around
them.  I stayed pretty far from the surfer because we have to be
cautious of strangers.

Curled up in the sand between the rocks, I was out of the wind and warm
from the sun.  The surfer could stay on his board only a short time
before falling.  He kept trying though, over and over again.  Just
before dozing off, I wished that I was closer because he looked
handsome.

I couldn't hear Dad calling over the wind and surf.  By the time he
found me, he was frantic.  He hugged me hard and then he was furious.

"I was afraid you had drowned.  What were you thinking, wandering off
like that?  Do you know what might happen to a girl all alone out here?
 How dare you scare me like that?"

I told him that I was sorry but he wasn't listening.

He steadied his foot up on a rock, put me across his knee and pulled my
bikini bottom down.  I worried that the surfer was still there,
watching. Dad's angry hand came down with the sound of a crashing wave
and it stung like crazy.  Between painful smacks the cool wind rushed
across my bare bottom.  With each burning spank, my pinks pressed
against his leg in a way that felt unusually good.

The harder I fought the spanking, kicked and struggled, the firmer he
held me down.  My pinks pressed and slid against his skin, then they
quivered and surged.  My mind blanked, the surf sounded far away and I
was floating, tingling all over.  When Dad stopped spanking me, I was
trembling and praying that I hadn't wet myself.

He pulled my swimsuit bottom up and put me down.  He held my chin, made
me look in his eyes and said, "Don't do that ever again."  Did he mean
wander off or did he know what had just happened to me?

I don't understand what it was but I want it to happen again.  I hate
it when Dad is mad at me.  Maybe if he was just a little mad, I
wouldn't get spanked hard but could get the feelings that I found that
day on the beach.