ITALIAN LANGUAGE I eagerly await my stepdaughter's return home. Earlier today, the school held an urgent assembly, revealing her declining grades—barely scraping by in a few subjects with just a 6, while failing in the rest. I’m determined to hear her side and teach her a lesson she won’t forget. The sound of the door echoes—she’s back. I summon her immediately, confronting her about her poor performance and demanding an explanation. She stumbles over her words, denying and deflecting, clearly unsure how to respond. I warn her she’ll be grounded for months, my tone sharp. Fear flickers in her eyes, her voice trembling. I press her, trying to uncover the reasons behind her carelessness, but she clings to silence. My frustration builds. I take her by the arm, sit down, and pull her across my lap. Discipline is necessary. I lift her skirt and deliver firm slaps to her pale, delicate bottom. Her skin quickly flushes red, a mix of her sensitivity and the force of my hand. Unsatisfied, I switch to a paddle, intensifying the sting until her cheeks blaze with heat. Finally, I break her resistance—she apologizes through tears, confesses to having a boyfriend as I suspected, and vows to work hard for top grades from now on.
