Shomi and Steelbender Doshu
“Thank you for your training, friend.  I hope to one day be as good a fighter as you!” Shomi cried and gave her friend a vigorous wave.  The female Pandaren sighed happily to herself as she turned toward her home, content in the idea that her excursion among the invading Zandalari trolls had caused her to grow much stronger as a fighter.  Indeed, she found it silly that only the men were to fight, and in a bold move, she stole away with a stranger from another land to practice her abilities.  The invading forces had retreated by the time she’d reached her home… 
…. only to catch sight of her father’s bulky silhouette in front of the light which lit their home.  Dusk had settled in, but it was clear the elder male was in no mood to sleep just yet.  “Shomi,” the wizened blacksmith said with a deathly calm.  “Where have you been all day?”
Shomi already felt herself twitch with worry.  “Uh… oh, you know… just… uh-”
“I watched you gallivant about with that stranger, Shomi,” he cut her off sharply.  “Perhaps you do not realize how dangerous it was out there?  Do you realize you could have been killed?”
“I am eighteen, father!” she cried suddenly, her cheeks puffing out as she mustered her strongest glare.  “I can choose to be a warrior if I wish!”
“Yet you still live under my roof!” he shot back angrily.  “What would your mother think of all of this disobedience lately!?”
Shomi visibly shrank before her father’s anger, despite having helped fight off a troll siege earlier that day.   Few of their lingering neighbors bothered the tirade as most were used to it, and many believed Doshu to merely be full of bluster.  Shomi, however, had a better understanding.  “I… I want to fight, father!”
Steelbender Doshu narrowed his eyes dangerously.  “Inside.  Now,” he hissed before turning to head inside.
Only once had Shomi not followed him, and after that she knew better than to disobey.  The alternative was far, far worse.  With quick steps the younger pandaren trotted into their home and latched the door behind her.  The young warrior visibly shook as she turned to see her father seated cross-legged upon his favorite cushion, his arms crossed as he looked sternly at her.  Shomi knew the drill all too well, her ears dropped as much as possible as she slowly walked up next to him and laid her plump body respectfully over his lap.
“Good girl,” the blacksmith echoed calmly.  One calloused hand took hold of the waistband of her blue pants and yanked them straight down to her ankles, while a second stroke of his deft hand drew her underwear right down with them.  The white fur of her bare bottom bristled as she braced herself, and without warning her father’s paw shot downward to land a powerful smack squarely upon her bubble-like rump.  Her curvy posterior jiggled in response to the hit, and Shomi couldn’t hold back a cry as a unique mixture of pain and pleasure shot up through her body.
“Nngh, father…!” she gasped, her legs flailing gently as she bit into a cushion in front of her.
“Silence, child!” he hissed as a second swat hurtled down upon the young woman’s plump rump.  The sharp smack easily echoed beyond their walls, though the few residents of the village who heard seemed to shrug it off.
A third smack quickly followed, this one sharper than the first two.  The resulting cry was heavily muffled by the pillow, and the strength of the smack shook all of Shomi’s body.  The younger pandaren was helpless to resist, though by the fourth smack her muffled cry, to the trained ear, would sound much more like one of pleasure than pain.  A series of faster smacks rained down upon her poor posterior, and within moments she’d lost count of them, much more focused on the heated pleasure that shot through her rounded body with each strike.
Doshu was relentless with his smacks.  The aging blacksmith had made every effort over the years to raise his daughter right, and only recently had he resorted to spanking as punishment.  To his surprise, it was the one thing Shomi responded the best to, though the recent troll attacks seemed to force his hand on almost a weekly basis.  His stern gaze ran over his daughter as another smack landed, though the elder appeared rather blind to his daughter’s reactions.
Another smack, and Shomi’s eyes rolled upward in sheer pleasure.  She bit her lip to stifle another moan, and she silently prayed that her thighs were squeezed tight enough to hide the nectar that soaked her exposed nethers.  A tinge of red had flushed itself beneath the fur on her bottom, and each spank following reddened it even more.  Electric sparks of delight continued to ravage her body, then without warning she felt that familiar, overwhelming burst of pleasure overtake her.  Shomi outright face-planted herself into the pillow, and upon his final smack, her butt shot into the air just a few inches and spasmed wildly in secret climax.
Doshu had seen it happen before, and each time it did, he figured she’d reached the physical limit of what she could handle.  It had only stretched a minute and a half from start to finish, yet still the blacksmith felt guilt at having to discipline his own daughter so harshly.  “Up,” he spoke softly and guided his daughter back upright, though her knees were so wobbly she nearly fell again.  It took all of her balance to lean over and pull her pants back up as her father looked at her with deep concern.  “I am very sorry, Shomi.  I hate having to do that, but I hope you know it is for your own good.”
Shomi bowed her head reverently.  “Yes, father, I understand.  Don’t feel bad,” she encouraged him and took a tender seat on his lap, careful not to agitate her sore tush, and wrapped him in a warm hug.  “I know you care, but… I can’t help but want to fight.”
“I know… I cannot help that I do not want to lose you,” he added and returned her embrace.  “Go get some rest.  We can talk more in the morning.”
“Yes, papa.”  Shomi planted a loving kiss on her father’s cheek before she rose and staggered off toward her room, her feet moving as quickly as her excited form would allow before her nectar visibly soaked through her pants.
Steelbender Doshu was left with his thoughts in his home, silently hoping he was doing the right thing.  He raised his right hand to scratch his cheek, though that small gesture left something strange and sticky clinging to the fur of his cheek.