Wednesday, April 24

The Diapered and Spanked Teen (F/m)

Writing is fun. I think maybe I'll keep posting some fiction here from time to time. This story is best illustrated by the following pic...

Yes, diaper fans, this one is for you! (But there is plenty of humiliation and there are also some spankings towards the end).

I was randomly casting around in my brain for themes that turn me on, and, as you can tell by reading Julie's Spankings on Amazon, the idea of my being age regressed and put into diapers in a public setting is a turn on for me. In fact, in case you missed it, I did a blog featuring a photo shoot of a super embarrassing diaper change of ME. This is the kind of research I do for you, gentle readers!

Many much more explicit pics at

I think the most embarrassing age to imagine to be diapered for more punitive reasons would be around age 14 or so. You're not an adult yet, but you're certainly not a baby! My sexiest thought is being 14 and being embarrassed like that. So, I've therefore chosen 14 as the age of my protagonist.

Caveat

There is no overt sexual activity in my story, just embarrassing punitive activity that I've sexualized in my mind. And, just to be 100% clear, I do not advocate sexualized punishments for teens! That's for us grownups imagining we are teens. I present the following as an age regression mindplay, inviting you to imagine yourself at that age.

I went with a male protagonist as I think a lot of my audience is more femdom oriented, and a male being infantilized is even more embarrassing than a female. I find myself very turned on imagining myself in the shoes of my teenage boy protagonist. This also  allows for opposite sex mommies doing the diapering.

I hope you enjoy it!


The Diapered Teen

The Warning

In the quiet suburban neighborhood of Oakwood, the Baxter family lived in a modest two-story home with a well-kept lawn and a charming porch. The family consisted of three children – the eldest sister, Emily, who was 17, followed by her middle brother, Tommy, 14, and then by the youngest, a little sister named Hannah, who was 12. They were a close-knit family, and their parents, John and Sarah, always tried to instill good values and habits in their children.

The girls were always very well-behaved and focussed on their chores and schoolwork, however Tommy was a different question. He would constantly challenge authority, was scattered and forgetful, neglectful of his chores and of his schoolwork, and lived to play video games on his handheld. There was therefore a constant battle going on between Tommy on the one hand, and his concerned parents on the other.

Sarah and John had used mild spanking discipline on Emily when she was much younger, but gave it up in favour of more progressive child rearing techniques when she was only six. So Tommy and Hannah were never spanked at all. For the girls, talking as discipline seemed to work fine, but Tommy seemed utterly immune to it. His parents had tried grounding and removal of privileges, such as his precious video game, but it seemed to only make everybody more miserable and never served to have any longer term effect on Tommy.

Perhaps minor in the larger scheme of things, but a persistent and ongoing irritation was the issue of going to the bathroom before car trips. "It's better to be safe than sorry," Sarah would always say, reminding her children to make a quick trip to the bathroom before they set off. While there was never any trouble with the girls, Tommy, true to form, seemed to have a hard time adhering to even this simple rule. On numerous occasions they had to make unplanned stops for Tommy to use the bathroom much to the annoyance and frustration of the entire family. After one such incident, Sarah decided she had had enough.

"Tommy, if you don't start remembering to go to the bathroom before we leave, I'm going to have to start putting you in diapers!" she said, half-serious. Half-serious because, while it had come out in jest, it stayed in her mind.

The family laughed, and Tommy felt a pang of embarrassment. "Mom, you wouldn't," he protested weakly.

"Oh, dont be so sure," she said, winking at her husband, John.

Tommy's sisters giggled anew and teased him mercilessly. "Tommy's gonna get diapered!" they chanted.

"Mom, you're not serious, right?" Tommy asked, trying to gauge her reaction.

"I recommend you don't find out," she replied, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Emily and Hannah burst into renewed laughter.

"Shut up!" Tommy said to his sisters. "Mom's not serious, okay?"

Sarah got a little smirk on her face, looked over to her husband John, and then said, "We'll see, Tommy. We'll see."


Trip to Grandparents

It was now several weeks later, and his mom's embarrassing threat had failed to materialize. They had even gone out on a drive and Tommy had to go, but he assured his mom he had gone before they left and nothing further was said. The "humorous" threat therefore faded to a large extent from Tommy's mind.

It was a sunny Saturday morning when the family was to set off on a road trip to attend a family reunion at the grandparents' place a couple of hours out of town. The girls were excited to see their cousins, chattering away as their mother made final preparations for the journey. Tommy didn't want to go at all, and complained bitterly. All the cousins were girls. He was the only boy in the family, and there was never anything to do there except get teased by his girl cousins. He had been quite the little shit for the past few days leading up to the trip because of this, and it was all Sarah and John could do to control their tempers. As they were about to leave, Sarah reminded them all, "Don't forget to use the bathroom before we go. Better safe than sorry."

The sisters giggled and scampered off to the bathroom, while Tommy, not at all in a cooperative mood, was too busy playing with his handheld game console to pay attention. He knew the drive was only a couple of hours and he could hold it just fine. Besides, if they had to stop, they'd have to stop. Tommy selfishly thought nothing of the inconvenience to the others.

When they were loaded in the car and heading out, Sarah turned around in her seat and asked them, "Did you all go?"

The girls both answered yes, but Tommy just grunted.

"Tommy..." his mother prompted.

"I went, I went, already. Geeze Mom."

But Tommy had, in fact, not gone. The car was already around the block and he knew his mom and dad would be mad at him if he said he hadn't, and the girls would tease him, so he lied. It was no big deal anyways. He didn't have to go, and it was only a couple of hours.

The car ride was smooth and filled with laughter and singing along to the radio. The family was having a great time, but as the miles rolled by, Tommy started to feel a slight pressure in his bladder. He tried to ignore it, but the more he tried, the more intense the feeling became.

Then the car hit traffic.

"What the hell?" his dad said. The car was stopped dead in traffic. "At this rate, we'll never get there!" he said, a sort of physics joke which was accurate when the car was totally stopped in traffic as it was.

Tommy started to get a little worried and began squirming in his seat.

"What's the matter, Tommy?" his older sister Emily asked, grinning broadly, "you got ants in your pants?" Emily knew Tommy had not gone before they left and that he had lied to their mom about it, and she was revelling in his discomfort.

"Shut up, Emily," Tommy said under his breath so just Emily could hear. Emily just smirked.

The car inched along the highway, stop and go for the next several miles. Tommy was getting more and more uncomfortable, the urge to pee almost irresistible.

Finally they approached the source of the problem, flashing lights and an accident that had closed two lanes and forced cars onto the shoulder to pass. They got past the slowdown and his dad accelerated with a sense of relief.

Tommy, however, was suffering. He clamped his legs together and moaned softly. His mother looked back at him from the front seat. Tommy's face was screwed up and his legs were shaking.

"Tommy!" his mom said. "Do you have to go pee? Did you not go before we left?"

"I did!" Tommy lied again.

"He didn't mom, I saw," said Emily, sticking the knife in.

"Well it certainly appears that way. None of us are having any trouble," Sarah said, indicating everybody else in the car.

"Please, Mom!" Tommy begged again.

"We're going to have to pull over at the next rest stop, John," Sarah said.

"Oh for Pete's sake! We're already an hour late and we just started going again!"

"I know, dear, and I'm sorry, but we can't have Tommy peeing his pants."

"Fine! It's not your fault," John said, implicating Tommy by omission.

Fortunately, they had just passed a sign for a rest stop two miles ahead.

John  pulled into it as they arrived a couple of minutes later and parked the car.

 Tommy went to open his door to run towards the relief he so desperately craved.


A Humiliating Lesson

"Hold up, Tommy," his mom said. "I'm taking you."

"What... what are you talking about, Mom? I 'gotta go. Bad!"

"I told you. Wait for me, I'm taking you."

Sarah got out of the car and went to the trunk.

Tommy tried pulling on the door, but it was locked. His dad had engaged the child locks, and only he could unlock it from the front.

Sarah pulled out a cloth bag from the trunk with baby animals on it that she had prepared earlier for just such a situation.  She had kept it from when the kids were babies hoping to have grandchildren one day.

She had suspected the time earlier that Tommy had lied to her about peeing before they left, but she let it go for lack of proof and for lack of preparation. This time, however, she had discussed it with John and then had gone to the drugstore to prepare, and had everything she needed stowed in the back corner of the trunk. John had thought it a bit extreme, but Sarah ruled the roost, and discipline was her department, so  he grudgingly supported her. Certainly nothing else they tried seemed to work with Tommy. Sarah had also asked Emily to keep an eye on her brother before they left for the next trip and to ascertain if he had gone or not. Emily had not been tattling when she revealed Tommy's lie, she had been asked to. 

The girls peered out the windows and started laughing their heads off when they saw Mom with the old diaper bag.

"Tommy's 'gonna get diapered!" 12-year-old Hannah cried out in glee.

"This is too good!" said Emily.

Tommy's face went pale, and he started pleading with his dad. "Dad!" Tommy pleaded. "Please... no! Don't let her..."

"Out of my hands, little buddy. Shouldn't have tested your mom like that..."

His dad unlocked the doors. Tommy was in the middle between the two girls, and he tried to scramble out Emily's side, the opposite side from where his Mom was waiting.

"Oh no," Emily said, pushing him back the other way. "Mom's that way."

Sarah opened the door and Hannah scrambled out. Sarah reached in and grabbed the frantic Tommy by his wrist and started pulling him out with Emily's assistance on the pushing end.

"No! Mom! Please! No!"

Sarah maintained a little smirk as she said, "you lied to my face young man, time to face the music."

"Can we come watch?" asked Hannah breathlessly.

"You girls stay in the car. We won't be long," Sarah said as she started dragging Tommy towards the rest stop.

Tommy leaned back, digging his heels in. "No, mom. Please!" 

Fortunately, Sarah worked out regularly doing both cardio and weights and she had no trouble dragging her desperate son inexorably towards his punishment. Tommy, though a 14-year-old boy, was under-developed for his age. The doctor had assured Sarah that while Tommy's 14 was at the outer range for the onset of puberty, there was as yet no cause for concern. Some boys are just "late bloomers" he had said.

As they entered the rest stop they started getting some looks. Sarah said, "Behave yourself, Tommy, we don't want to draw more attention to this than is necessary, do we?"

Tommy stopped struggling, but he couldn't stop crying as Sarah led him further inside through the two sets of doors.

They got all the way inside and Sarah looked to the left and the right. Men's room to the right. Ladies' room to the left. She turned left pulling Tommy behind her.

"Mommy, no! It's the Ladies' Room!"

"Did you think I was going to go into the Men's Room to diaper you?" she said with a laugh in her voice. "Besides, it has just what we need," she said, nodding to the "diaper changing station" sign on the wall.

"No, Mommy! No!" he continued, crying wet tears streaming down his face, as Sarah dragged him step-by-step into the sanctum santorum of womanhood: The Ladies' Room.

"I have my teenaged boy with me, may we come in?" Sarah shouted out before taking the final step around the corner.

A woman inside looked around. The bathroom stalls were empty and there were only three of them at the sinks, washing hands or touching up their makeup.

"Coast is clear!" She yelled back.

Sarah dragged the desperate Tommy the final steps into the ladies' room.

"What have we here?" one of the three women asked with a grin, the other two equally interested.

Sarah smiled at them and explained, "My son here has trouble remembering to go to the bathroom before we leave, so I'm teaching him a lesson."

"What are you going to do?" one of them asked with a chuckle.

"Since he can't seem to manage to go to the bathroom like a big boy, I'm going to treat him like a little baby and put him in a diaper."

Tommy wailed as the three women all laughed at the boy's abject embarrassment. "Let us know how we can help," said the first lady.

"Here you go," said another of the women as she lowered the baby changing station into place. "He's pretty small yet, it should hold his weight."



Sarah put her hands under Tommy's arms and lifted him up to sit onto the changing station.

"Mommy, no! Not here! Please! Not in front of them! Please!?!"

"Hush now. Are you going to lie back on your own or do I need to ask these ladies to help hold you down?"

Two of the ladies immediately went to Tommy and started making hushing sounds as they gently turned him and pressured his shoulders down onto the table.

"No... no..." he said between his tears but did not resist.

His mom undid his belt, the clasp of his pants, and then his zipper, and then putting her hands on either side of his waist, tugged both pants and underpants down.

"Nooooo!" He wailed as his penis and testicles came into view. "Mommyyyyy!" he exclaimed as he covered his crotch with his hands.

Sarah kept pulling his pants and underpants down past his knees, then to his ankles. The third lady helped Sarah take his shoes off and then remove his pants and underpants from around his feet, folding them neatly and setting them aside.

Sarah then went into the baby bag and pulled out a packet of baby wipes.

As Sarah opened it, one of the ladies holding Tommy's shoulders reached for his hands and said, "No, no, sweetheart, mommy needs to clean that," and moved his hands to his sides, holding them there as the other woman pinned both shoulders.

"No! No!" Tommy cried as his little penis and tiny testicles came into full view.

His mom took a baby wipe and began cleaning his genitals as Tommy blushed with embarrassment. He still desperately needed to pee which added to his squirming discomfort.

The women commented on his lack of pubic hair and the small size of his penis and testicles. Sarah lifted them up for the women to get a closer look.

"How old is he?" One of the women asked gently.

"Fourteen," Sarah replied, "but he's a bit of a late bloomer."

"Oh my goodness! Fourteen? I never would have imagined, you poor baby!"

"Mommmyyyyy!" Tommy wailed in embarrassment as the women all giggled at his lack of development.

"That's okay, sweetie, you'll catch up soon, I'm sure."

Sarah then wiped between his legs and tried to get under but was having trouble. The woman who had taken his pants took Tommy's two ankles in her hand and lifted his legs up and back, raising his bottom and exposing his bottom cleft and bumhole for his mom to clean.

Tommy tried struggling, but the ladies held him firmly in place as his mom carefully wiped his entire rear end.

"Oh, Tommy!" His mom scolded as she wiped his bottom hole and came away with a dirty wipe.

"Boys and their bathroom habits," said one of the women, shaking her head.

Sarah got another few wipes and payed special attention to his bottom hole as all three women watched intently. The woman holding his legs up and back separated them, and Sarah used one hand to spread his cheeks wider as she thoroughly wiped around and up inside his bumhole.

"Such a cute little bum," said one of the ladies. "So soft and smooth. I don't know the last time I saw a teenager's bum," she added.

When Sarah was done she discarded the used wipes into the nearby receptacle designed for that purpose.

"Here, slip the diaper under him as I keep holding his legs up," said the woman.

Sarah gratefully got the diaper out of the bag, unfastened it, and started slipping it under Tommy's bum as the woman lifted a bit higher.

"I can't tell you how many times I did with my three kids," she said. "All grown now."

"Yes, it brings back memories," said Sarah as she slipped the diaper into place.

"Powder?" the woman asked, eying the talcum in the baby bag.

"Yes, of course," answered Sarah. "We wouldn't want a diaper rash, and I suspect he may have to use that diaper before too long, eh Tommy?" asked his mom as she tweaked his little penis.

Tommy wailed and continued to cry as his embarrassment deepened.

As the woman kept Tommy's legs up, Sarah sprinkled a copious amount of the scented powder all over his bum and onto and even a bit into his bottom hole. The woman then lowered his legs and pulled them apart so Sarah could powder his inner thighs and then his teint, testicles, penis, and low abdomen. Tommy cried through the entire humiliating procedure.

"He's still just a baby, isn't he?" one of the women said, causing Tommy to feel even more humiliated.

Sarah brought the diaper up between his legs and over his penis which she carefully pointed downwards, fastening the taped tabs snugly shut.

"And there we go," said Sarah as she patted his diaper while the three women released him.

"Thank you so much for your help, ladies," said Sarah, "I'm not sure Tommy would have been quite so cooperative without it."

"Well," said the first woman, "hopefully lesson learned and he'll remember to go to the bathroom next time!"

"Oh I hope so," Sarah agreed, as they helped the still sobbing Tommy to sit back up on the diaper changing station, his feet dangling.


The Walk of Shame

"Mom... I still 'gotta pee... real bad!" As Tommy said this, he squeezed he legs together and pressed down on his crotch.

The women all laughed, anticipating Sarah's response.

"You have a diaper on, sweetie, use it. That's what it's for."

"But Mom. I cant! I just can't do that!"

"That's fine, Tommy. Maybe you don't really have to go as badly as you think. We're only an hour or so away from your grandma and grandpa's house. Maybe you can hold it in for that long? And if not, I'll change you when we get there. Now let's get your shoes back on," Sarah said, starting to do so.

"But, Mommy... my pants..."

"Will stay right in this diaper bag until you've earned them back."

"But Mommy... I can't... I can't..." he started hyperventilating, "go back to the car like this!" he wailed.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have lied to my face about having gone pee, Tommy, and you wouldn't have needed to be punished like this."

"Your mom has a point, sweetheart," said one of the women. "If you didn't want to be punished, you shouldn't have misbehaved in the first place"

Sarah finished putting his shoes on, then took the diaper bag over her shoulder and took Tommy by the hand. "Let's go, we've kept the family waiting long enough."

As Sarah led Tommy out, he didn't resist, he just walked behind his mommy, crying, and looking at the floor.

As they came out, there was a rumble of murmurs around them and a lot of stifled laughs.

"Look at that, Martha! That boy's in a diaper! At his age!"

The women came out as well to watch their progress. "He's being punished," the first woman said. "Lied to his mom. To her face."

"Serves him right," said the older woman. "The kids these days need to learn somehow, and that's a darned good lesson for him."

Tommy blushed as he cried as they walked back to the car with nothing on but his new diaper.


Wetting

As they got to the car, Tommy's sisters were jumping up and down pointing at Tommy.

"He's really in a diaper!"

"He sure is!"

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Sarah just smiled as she put Tommy back into the car with the girls on either side, stowed the diaper bag back in the trunk, and went back to the passenger seat.

"Was that really necessary?" asked her husband John, referring to the public parade, not the pre-agreed upon diapering.

"Yes," Sarah replied, "I think it was."

Tommy's sisters' eyes were wide with shock and amusement. They had never seen their brother so humiliated.

They set off again on the road.

"Where did you diaper him, Mom?" asked Emily.

"In the Ladies' Room. There was a diaper changing station on the wall and the other women didn't seem to mind."

"There were other women?" Asked Emily incredulously.

"Three others. They were very helpful, weren't they, Tommy?"

"Mom!"

"Did they, like, watch it?"

"I'd say they got an eyeful, wouldn't you, Tommy?"

"Mommy!" He wailed in embarrassment as Sarah turned around smugly to face the front again.

The girls continued their teasing which their mom allowed. But finally their dad said, "that's enough girls," and they quieted down.

The trip was a blur for Tommy. He sat in the car, his face buried in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. He couldn't believe what had just happened to him.

As Tommy's crying ramped down, his urge to pee did not. It only increased.

"Mom, Dad, can we stop, please? I really still need to pee!"

"What, again?" his dad exclaimed.

Sarah explained, "He didn't go at the rest stop. I thought we shouldn't take the extra time beyond diapering him."

"And now we have to stop again?" John asked, peeved.

"No, no. That's what the diaper's for."

"Ohhh," John said, understanding his wife's reasoning. "You heard your mom, Tommy, that's what the diaper's for." 

"Ohhhh!" Tommy wailed again.

His sisters backed as far away from him as they could and watched him intently. They saw him squeezing his legs, shimmying his bum, scrunching his face, and rocking back and forth. But it was too much for Tommy, and with a renewed cry of abject shame, he wet.

"Ewwwww! He's doing it!" little Hannah was the first to say it. Sarah turned around in her seat and watched. Three pairs of female eyes were on him as he thoroughly wet his diaper, the warm urine flowing all over and around his midsection, coating his penis and testicles, his abdomen, between his legs, and his whole bum. He sat in a soaking wet diaper, in misery, for the rest of the trip.


Family Reunion

As they pulled in an hour late to the family reunion at the Grandparents', Tommy was still sniffling and miserable.

There were four or five other cars parked in and around the driveway but John found a god spot, albeit on a bit of unlevel ground.

"Come on, Tommy, let's get you inside and changed," said Sarah.

"But Mom... my pants..."

Sarah laughed. "I don't think your pants will fit over that soggy diaper. Maybe if you'd gone potty back home before we left, you wouldn't have wet? Have you thought of that?"

"But I can't... go in like this!"

His dad John turned around to face him. "Tommy, you're being punished. Do as your mom tells you."

Amid renewed tears, Sarah takes the diaper bag out of the trunk and then Tommy out of the car and leads him by his hand to the front door. Having heard the car arriving. His grandparents are at the front door standing there.

"Ho, ho! What's this? A big soggy diaper?" his grandad asked, not able to keep the laugh out of his voice.

"Tommy's being punished," Sarah explained.

"You poor dear," said his grandma benevolently.

"Is there a private place I can take him to get changed?" asked Sarah.

"You can use the guest bedroom," said Grandma, leading the way.

As they passed, several aunts and uncles and girl-cousins of various ages saw Tommy waddling past in his soggy wet diaper. Four of the girls laughed outright at the sight!

When John, Emily, and Hannah arrived, carrying the luggage, the girls were quick to explain to all their cousins – as the aunts and uncles listened in – what had transpired that led to their fourteen year old brother being put into a diaper and forced to use it. The cousins had many questions, and between Emily and the excited little Hannah, they gleefully answered every one of them, and in detail.

Meanwhile, Sarah, Grandma, and Tommy got to the relative privacy of the guest suite that Sarah and John would be occupying that night. Grandma closed the door behind them and went to the ensuite and came back with a big towel that she lay on the bed. His mom lay Tommy down face up on the towel and removed his shoes and socks, and then his T-shirt as well, leaving him in nothing but his soggy diaper as his grandmother looked down on him benevolently showing no signs whatsoever of leaving the room for his embarrassing cleanup.

"I'll draw a bath for him," Grandma said, and went back to the bathroom to start the warm water flowing into the tub, and then got a plastic bathroom trash bag she kept under the sink to dispose of the wet diaper.

When she emerged, Tommy's diaper was already unfastened and down in front, and his mom was cleaning up the worst of it off his little penis and testicles with the baby wipes.

Grandma held the bag open. Sarah looked at her gratefully as she pulled the wet diaper out from under Tommy and discarded it. Grandma tied the bag up tightly and put it aside. Meanwhile, Sarah had Tommy's legs up by the ankles and was wiping the skin on his bum and around his bumhole as the poor boy squirmed in distress at his grandmother's gaze.

Both of them then took the now fully nude boy into the bathroom and put him into the tub to soak.

Tommy was still crying and sniffling at the embarrassment of it all. Not only had three complete strangers seen his bare penis today, but his mom and grandma too. And everybody had seen him in his saggy wet diaper!

His grandmother got the soap, made him stand in the tub, and began soaping his midsection. She had no qualms whatsoever of soaping his genitals, bum, and ass crack, making sure to even push some of the sudsy water a little up into his bumhole. "Grandma!" He shouted at this intrusion, but she and Sarah only laughed at the blushing boy.

"Still so underdeveloped for his age?" asked Grandma.

"Yes, but his paediatrician says we shouldn't start worrying until he turns 15."

"Well, in the meantime he's still very cute, like a little baby!"

"Grandma!" cried Tommy, squirming as she soaped his penis and testicles and between his legs.

But then Tommy started feeling something that really made him blush.

"Oh look!" said Grandma. "Hope is in sight."

Sarah looked and saw Tommy with a diminutive, but very stiff little erection.

"Oh, Tommy! You should be ashamed of yourself," his mom said with a chuckle.

"Mom!" He cried out.

"Hold still," grandma said as she finished up the scrubbing, his little erection waving around as she did so. "Now rinse."

Tommy gratefully dropped into the bathtub, the sudsy water giving him at least some measure of privacy.

"Now don't you rub on that yourself," Grandma mock scolded with a big grin, "or you'll get hairy palms and go blind and everybody will know why."

"That's not true, Tommy, Grandma is telling you fibs," Sarah said, "but you keep that very private if you do that."

Tommy blushed three shades of red.

With that they ended the bath. His grandma left taking the garbage bag with the wet diaper with her. His mom dried him with the big towel and said, "I'm going to let you get dressed in your big clothes, now Tommy, but I'll be keeping my diaper bag in the trunk. Will you ever forget to pee before a car trip again?"

"No, Mom, I promise! Never again. I'll even try when I don't even need to."

"That's good, Tommy, there's always a little that comes out even if you don't think you need to, and that can save us a stop an hour later, right?"

"Yes, Mom. I promise."

"And will you ever lie to my face again?"

"No, Mom. I'm sorry. I won't ever."

"Good boy. Now you get dressed. Your clothes are there in the diaper bag and your shoes and socks are next door, and then you come out and join the rest of the family, okay?"

"Do I have to come out, Mom? Please?"

"You can't hide your face all weekend, Tommy."

"fine..." he said dejectedly as his mom left him to dress.


The New Regime

Dinner and the rest of the evening did not go well for Tommy. He was stuck at the kids table with his younger cousins and his younger sister Hannah. His older sister Emily got to sit with the grownups. There was lots of teasing and sniggering, not least by his little sister who insisted on recounting the full story in gruesome detail to his rapt cousins. The laughter and teasing from his pretty girl cousins was the worst. Tommy did not say much and excused himself to the room he had to share with his sisters as soon as he could.

At bedtime, Emily asked him if he needed his nappies for beddy-bye? Tommy scowled and told her to shut up and hid his head in his sleeping bag as the girls laughed.

By the next morning, his punishment diapering was no longer the headline news and he ate his breakfast in relative peace, though still keeping to himself.

After breakfast, his parents sat him down at the kitchen table to have a talk with him. Emily and another girls cousin Emily's age were hanging out in the kitchen at the time, and as they weren't asked to leave, they listened in to the conversation, curious as to what would be said.

"Your father and I talked last night, Tommy. We're both very pleased that yesterday's discipline seemed to have an effect on you. Goodness knows, nothing else we've tried over the past year has worked."

Tommy reluctantly nodded his head and squirmed in his seat. He didn't want to have this conversation at all, let alone at the kitchen table where others could hear!

"So your daddy and I have decided to go back to a more old-fashioned and more direct form of discipline for you from now on. At least until you've grown out of whatever this stage you seem to be stuck in. From now on, Tommy, if you misbehave you're going to be spanked."

"Wha... wha... what?" Tommy said, his mind reeling, unable to fully process what he just heard.

"You heard us. A good, old-fashioned, pants-down spanking across our knees."

Emily and their cousin turned and looked at each other with big eyes and open mouths, then both covered their mouths to keep from giggling out loud.

"But Mom, Dad..."

"And, we think you should call us Mommy and Daddy as well until further notice."

That was the least of Tommy's worries just then.

"But Mommy, Daddy, I'm too old to be spanked!"

"Well that's just the trouble, sport," said John. "Normally fourteen is too old for spankings. Way too old. But if you acted your age, we wouldn't need to do this."

"But it's not fair!" cried Tommy. "What about Emily and Hannah?"

"Emily and Hannah are well behaved," explained Sarah. "Emily acts her age and Hannah is responsible beyond her years. Nothing more than a good talking-to is ever needed with them. But it's different with you, Tommy. No amount of talking seems to work with you. But the diapering worked, didn't it? So your father and I discussed it last night. You seem to need a more direct and more immediate form of discipline, so we've decided on spankings. Mind you, I'm keeping the diapers in the car, just in case you lapse on that again."

"But Mommy, it's not fair. I'm too old!"

"Now we're just going around in circles. That's the way it's going to be and that's that. Now go and play, and behave yourself or else you know what's going to happen."

Tommy stood up in a daze. He saw Emily and his cousin looking at him with smirks on their faces, and he immediately turned and ran outside, ran to the furthest end of the yard, climbed into the treehouse, and cried at his new circumstances.


Sticks and Stones

As Tommy sat in the treehouse, he couldn't stop thinking about spankings. He had never had a spanking in his life. He had heard about spankings, and seen some old comics and movies with spankings in them, but it was always women and little kids getting spankings, never boys his age!









And some of those spankings he had seen looked like they hurt. A lot! With tears and everything. And Mommy had said it would be across her knee with his pants down! The pictures and movies he had seen had never had their pants down. He imagined himself lying across Mommy's lap with his pants down and her hitting his bum. Or worse yet, Daddy doing it! And when she said pants down, did she mean underpants also??? And would it be in private, or out where people could see it? In some of the movies and comics he had seen, there were people watching. When Mommy had diapered him yesterday, she did it with his pants and underpants totally off and in front of other mommies even. She would, he thought. She would spank me on my bare bum with other people watching. She would! Those thoughts kept going around and around in his head, sending butterflies deep in his tummy. He imagined himself over her knee, pants and underpants right down, getting spanked and crying like a little baby while everybody watched.

After fretting like this for the better part of an hour, he heard some of the girls coming out into the backyard. "Oh, great," he thought, "more teasing." He went down the ladder and started heading back to the house.

"Hey Spanky, we heard the news," said his thirteen-year-old cousin Louise.

"Shut up!" he said.

"Are you allowed to use language like that, Spanky?"

"I said SHUT UP," Tommy screamed, and picked up a 6 inch stick from the ground and threw it at her.

The stick went flying and struck her in the face. She grabbed at her left eye and instantly started wailing. Tommy went completely pale. "What have I done?" he asked himself.

Louise's mom, hearing her girl cry ran out to check on her, Sarah close behind.

"He threw a stick at me and it hit me in the eye!" she wailed.

"Let me see, let me see," her mom said worriedly. "It just missed, thankfully, but you have a little cut right near your eye. Let's go inside and take care of that." Her mom helped the crying thirteen-year-old back into the house.

Sarah remained, glaring at Tommy who just stood there, rooted to the spot.

"What is the meaning of this, Thomas Alexander Baxter?"

"She... she teased me..." he said softly, knowing as the words came out how inadequate an excuse it was.

His mother did not even deign it with an answer.

"Did your father and I not talk to you this very morning about the consequences of your misbehaviour? Well? Answer me!"

"Y... y... yes..."

By now the entire family was either in the yard or on the back porch looking at the exchange.

"And what did we say would happen if you misbehaved? Answer!"

"A... a... a... s... s... sp... sp... spanking..."

With that, Sarah Baxter strode up to her son, took him by the ear, and began pulling him forward painfully back towards the house.

"No, Mommy! No! Please! I don't want a spanking! I don't want a spanking!"

"You should have thought of that before throwing a stick at your little cousin and practically taking out her eye!"

His sisters, all his girl-cousins, his aunts and uncles, John, Grandma and Grandpa, all watched as Tommy was ear-marched into the house, and none too gently at that as his mom applied a painful twist, turn, and lift that had him bent over and scrambling to keep up.

"No! No!" he yelled as his mom dragged him in.

 The assembled family was all shocked by Tommy's behaviour, young and old alike, and none were at all sympathetic to his plight. Even some of the aunts and uncles who had thought Sarah had taken things too far with the diapering were now firmly on her side. If anybody needed a good old-fashioned spanking, it was Tommy Baxter, and the sounder the better.


First Spanking

The family parted as Sarah came through, dragging the unfortunate Tommy by the ear. She marched him past them, marched him up the stairs, and marched him into the guest suite she and her husband occupied, closing the door behind them. Meanwhile, the rest of the family made their way somberly into the house, taking a seat in the living room a floor down from the bedroom Sarah and Tommy occupied.

Sarah sat at the foot of the bed and said, "Come here, Tommy. Right beside me."

"Mommy, no, please!" he begged. His fevered nightmare had become a reality. He was to be spanked. Spanked like those women in the movies and comics. Spanked like the little kids.

"Now!" Sarah yelled, shaking Tommy out of his stupor. He slowly approached the place his mother was pointing to: the floor at the foot of the bed immediately to her right. When he got there he was already crying and his knees were shaking.

His mom looked around the room. "There it is," she said aloud to herself, stood up, walked to the dresser, and got the solid antique wooden hairbrush that was kept atop it. She went back to where she had been and sat again, hairbrush in hand.

She put the hairbrush aside and pulled Tommy a step closer. She reached out and undid his belt buckle, then the clasps of his pants, and finally his zipper. She pushed his pants down to a puddle around his ankles, revealing his little white underpants.

"This spanking is pants down, Tommy Baxter," she declared as she reached out to either side of his underpants and with one swift motion lowered them to his knees.

"Waaaaa!" Tommy cried out. Once again his little hairless cock and balls were on display to Mommy. He quickly tried covering them with his hands but his mother took his wrists and parked them at his sides saying, "I don't care if you're bare. The hands stay at your sides while I scold you before a spanking, young man."

With him standing there like that, his Mom renewed her scolding, tearing a strip up and down the unfortunate boy. His whole body quivered as he stood there and took it, his penis along with. When she was done she pulled him over her lap by the arm and adjusted him so his bare bottom was uppermost. Tommy's hands remained at his sides as he went face first into the bed linens, his feet leaving the ground.

Sarah turned a bit sideways and clamped her left arm around his hip and holding his right wrist. She raised the hairbrush and brought it down with a prodigious strike to his right buttock.

WHACK!

"Ahhhhhhhh!" Tommy wailed, not expecting a spanking could be this bad!

He struggled and wriggled and freed his right hand and then brought both his hands up to cover his bottom cheeks.

"No Mommy! No! Not so hard! Please!!!"

"It's a SPANKING, young man, it's meant to hurt."

She gathered both his wrists together and held them tightly at the small of his back with her left hand. Then she passed her right leg across the backs of Tommy's legs, locking him securely in place.

"No, no, no. no," Tommy cried as his mother raised her arm again and brought the second prodigious whack down on his near cheek.

WHACK!

"Arrrrrggggggawwwwwwww!" Tommy cried, which turned into a continuous wail as Sarah gave him what's for with back of the heavy wooden hairbrush.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

The pace was unrelenting and Tommy cried and begged and pleaded as the snot ran out his nose and the tears puddled on the bedspread beneath him.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

"NO MOMMY! NO MOMMY! PLEASE MOMMY! PLEASE!!!"

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Sarah had counted out 150 strokes in her head and stopped. Tommy's bum was crimson red with purple white bullseyes on either cheek where Sarah had targeted the worst of it. Tommy was still crying, kicking, and carrying on over her lap even after she had stopped. It was a harsh lesson, but one he needed to learn.

The family downstairs had heard the whole thing. From Sarah's initial instructions and scolding, to Tommy's desperate cries, to the sound of the wood repeatedly striking his bare bottom flesh. The girls had particularly giggled when Aunt Sarah had said, "I don't care if you're bare. The hands stay at your sides while I scold you before a spanking, young man." They all imagined the scene vividly!

"That's a job well done," said Grandpa, the first to speak after the spanking had stopped.

Sarah helped Tommy to his feet. He was crying like a baby as he desperately reached back and clutched his well-punished backside.

"I'm sorry that had to be so harsh, Tommy, but you almost took out Louise's eye, and you needed a good punishment as a result."

"Yes, Mommy!" Tommy wailed as he hopped from foot to foot, desperately rubbing his rear end, his diminutive cock and balls bouncing in the air at his mom's eye level, his little penis being the last thing on Tommy's mind which was entirely consumed by the fire his Mom had lit in his backside.

"Will you misbehave again while we're here, Tommy?" Sarah asked, shaking the hairbrush at him.

"No, Mommy!"

Sarah stood and replaced the hairbrush on the dresser where she had found it.

"Good, because Grandma's hairbrush isn't going anywhere, young man, and I WILL use it again if I have to. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Mommy!"

"Now pull up your pants and then you march downstairs, and you apologize to Louise, and you tell her you've been punished with a good hard hairbrush spanking over your mommy's knee on your bare bottom."

"Mommy! Please no! Please!"

"Would you like another spanking? Would you like to spend another five minutes over my knee?"

"No, Mommy! No, no, no."

"Then will you do as you're told?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Go on then, get your pants back up."

Tommy bent painfully, pulled up his underpants and pants over his sore bottom, wincing as he did so, and redid his zipper, clasp, and belt buckle.

"March!" his mother told him.


The Apology

Tommy slowly made his way down the stairs, sniffling and puffy eyed, rubbing his rear end the whole way, his mother descending behind him.

When he got downstairs he saw Louise with a bandaid beside her left eye. He went right up to her and said, "I'm sorry, Louise, sniff, for throwing the stick at you, sniff."

"And the rest of it, young man," prompted his mother.

"My mommy p...p...punished me with a spanking..."

"What kind of spanking, Tommy?" Sarah promoted again.

"A... a... good hard hairbrush spanking over Mommy's knee..."

"On your..." Sarah said, sounding a bit exasperated.

"On my b...b...bare b...b...b...bottom..."

"Good! I'm glad!" said Louise.

"Louise," said her mom, "you need to accept Tommy's apology and tell him he's forgiven."

"No!" she said, stomping her foot.

"Louise, would you like to be punished also? Like Tommy was?"

Louise shook her head no.

"Then go ahead..."

"Fine. I accept your apology and you're forgiven," she said curtly.

Tommy nodded his head as he kept rubbing his bottom.

"You may go to your room now, Tommy, and have a good cry, and do not even think about misbehaving again while we're here."

Tommy turned slowly and walked away, his hands still rubbing his backside through his pants.

"That was quite a spanking," said Louise's mom to Sarah.

"Well, when you think what might have happened, I thought he needed that."

"Oh, I'm not disagreeing, just commenting on a job well done."


The Departure

The family stayed one more night, and after lunch the next day, everybody started heading out. The Baxters packed up their car and said their goodbyes.

Before they left, Sarah discreetly took Tommy to the bathroom. There she closed the door and opened the toilet cover and toilet seat. She put Tommy in front of the toilet, pulled his T-shirt up to his armpits, unfastened his pants, and pulled them and his underpants down to his ankles.

"Go on, Tommy. Pee, please."

"Mom!" he wailed. But he looked at the toilet, took his penis in his hand, aimed it, and let loose a good stream into the toilet.

"Into the bowl, sweetheart," Sarah reminded him.

When he was done, Sarah took a piece of toilet paper, dabbed the tip of his penis, then ran it around the rim of the toilet, closed the lid, and flushed it all down.

She then pulled his pants and underpants back up, fastened them, and re-adjusted his shirt. They walked out together and said their goodbyes.

When they were all in the car about to pull out, Sarah turned in her seat and asked, "Did you girls remember to pee?"

"Yes, Mom," they both said. "How about Tommy?" asked Emily.

"He had a good pee," Sarah said. "I supervised."

The whole family, except for Tommy, had a good laugh at his expense.


The Drive Home

They hit traffic again on their way home. As usual, Tommy and Hannah were bickering in the back seat over elbow room.

"Tommy, Hannah, you settle down, both of you!" their dad yelled out, his nerves frayed by the stop and go traffic.

"Sorry, Daddy," Hannah said. "Sorry, Daddy," repeated Tommy, chafing at having to call "Dad", "Daddy".

But 10 minutes later they were back at it.

"That's it!" John said, as he pulled off to the side of the road. He looked back at the kids. "Hannah, you stay to your side. Tommy, out of the car."

Tommy went pale. He wouldn't, he couldn't, not... here!

His Dad flung the door open and Emily jumped out. He reached in and pulled Tommy out. He marched him to the front of the car, sat on the fender, pulled down Tommy's pants, then put him over his knee. Hannah stayed out of the car for a better view.

"No, Daddy! It's not fair! It's as much Hannah's fault!" Tommy said, draped across his father's knee, only his underwear covering his butt.

"And I'm sure your mom is giving Hannah a good talking to right now. But we discussed how we would deal with your misbehaviour, young man, or have you forgotten already?"

With that, John yanked Tommy's underpants down to his mid thighs and began spanking him with his hard hand.

Emily openly grinned seeing Tommy spanked like this, and both Sarah and Hannah had a pretty good view, as did passing motorists, some of whom honked their support for an exasperated dad.

John gave him only a short spanking. Just enough to make his point. Tommy's butt was still red and bruised from his mom's hairbrush spanking yesterday, and was still tender, so Tommy certainly felt his dad's spanking, despite its short duration.

When John was finished, he pulled Tommy's underpants back up, put him back on his feet, and told him to pull up his pants. He then conducted him back to the car and pushed him back inside, a smirking Emily holding the door for him.

For the rest of the drive, Tommy sat there in the middle between his two sisters, pouting and reflecting on the injustice of it all.

His sisters on either side had to hold their hands to their mouths so as not to giggle aloud and incur the wrath of their parents.

"just shut up," said Tommy, under his breath.


FIN


There we are! I hope you liked it. I wrote this story with some brainstorming help from X's Grok AI, and I generated a couple of images using Gab.ai. You have to keep generating the images over and over again until you find something halfway passable. Here are a few of my rejects for the moms in the restroom photo!














Which one would you like as your AI Mommy?





Saturday, April 20

The Punished Father (fiction Fff/M)

Been having fun brainstorming more ideas with AI, but this time decided to write the finished story all by myself. This one is F/M genre with some older teenaged young ladies (ff) involved as well to add to his humiliation. I know I have several fans who love this particular narrow genre, and this is my gift to them (one of them, a heterosexual older man, was recently very disappointed when his first ever "man-date" to get spanked and have to take the cock fell through, so this is in part to cheer him up).

I mainly used X's Grok.ai in my brainstorming, which is still happy to perv out with me.  Recently Gab.ai has gotten preachy about adult content. Sigh!

While the "Julie" character is the wife in this story, by the end I was more and more empathizing with the "Violet" character. That's whom it turns out I really would have wanted to be in this story, and it would definitely have totally turned me on IRL. "David" is, of course, always David. Poor boy!

My husband david, and I.
He's in the midst of suffering a severe strapping
(as did the miscreant in my story below).
We filmed five plus years ago and posted as part of a larger video.
See Strict Julie Spanks! (ON VIDEO!!!)

As has evolved to be my style, I start with a more subtle spanking, where the girls only hear it and don't see it (which is still deliciously embarrassing!). I don't want to pop the bubble of suspended disbelief quite yet. As the story goes on, the acts become more and more overt and "over the top", but having indulged me with your initial suspension of disbelief, I take you small step by small step into the deeper waters, trying to maintain my tenuous grasp on this voluntary suspension of disbelief throughout. I crave your indulgence!

If you like the story and want to read more, I have several books just like this on Amazon (see my author's page, Julie Delmar). I always bring my own experiences, from both top and bottom roles, into my writing which lends a certain realism to the action at least, if not the situations. I also have a bunch of free fiction posted here on this blog. I try to gather most of it on my Fiction with Julie page referenced in the Resources section of the sidebar. Included there is a full book in pdf format that for some reason ;-) was censored by Amazon. Though if you purchase my books, the small amount of money is appreciated as it goes to a good cause (not myself!).

Please enjoy this story first, though, and let me know in the comments if you jerked off to it and, if so, at which scene you finally spurted!



The Punished Father

by Julie Delmar

Perving

Hi! My name is Violet and I'm about to tell you a story you just won't even believe, but it's 100% true, I swear.

I was staying over at my friend Lisa Fraser's house. We've known each other for, like, forever. It was the summer after high school graduation, and we were heading off to different universities come fall, so for the sake of a bit of nostalgia I went over to her place for a sleepover, something we hadn't done for years.

Lisa has a backyard pool, so we were going to spend the day lounging out there, and then eat pizza and popcorn in her room, watch a movie, gossip like crazy, and talk about boys, of course. I packed my skimpiest bikini for tanning and my old soft flannel PJs I hadn't worn for years, but they still fit... mostly! It was going to be just like in middle school, and I was really looking forward to it.

When I arrived just after noon, Lisa's folks were there and I said hello, of course. Lisa's mom, Julie is her name, but we just called her Mrs. F, is way cool. She always took an interest in me. She is some kind of exec for some big company. I didn't know much about Lisa's dad. He only ever grunted at me when I was a kid, so I didn't know much about him either way.

We changed into our suits and went to the pool to soak up some rays. Lisa and I were chattering away.  Then her dad comes out also, in his swimsuit, which was a bit of a bummer, as it 'kinda curtailed our more juicy conversation. But he did ask if we wanted a drink. Like, a drink, drink. He was having one and he asked. We were a bit surprised as we were underaged (not that we didn't drink, we drank too much!). It was more surprising 'cause it was her dad offering. Well, I accepted, and so did Lisa. He made us some Tom Collins on ice: gin, lemonade, and soda, and he didn't skimp on the gin!

But then things got, like, way creepoid. We were sitting talking. And I started feeling a little self-conscious in my bikini with her dad, like, right there, looking down on me. And then, like not creepy at all, he says, "great bathing suit, Violet."

Oh... cringe! He's like... old! And not even, like, handsome old. Just, sort of, pudgy old.

"Dad!" said Lisa. And I must have gotten this mega cringe look on my face, 'cause he starts backing away pretending like he was just leaving anyways. So gross!

"He's such a perv," Lisa says to me under her breath as he walks away.


Revelation

Well, we pretty much forgot about it and got back to our tanning and talking. When the sun started going down we headed inside and got changed. I was careful to cover up on my way in case Lisa's dad was there, but he wasn't. We changed straight into our PJs and Lisa ordered up the pizza pie. I, as always, wanted Hawaiian, but Lisa hates pineapple on pizza (like, I know, it's the BEST), but she agreed to pick it off and give me her extra.

When the 'za arrived, Lisa's mom sliced it and brought it up for us. She had this big smile on her face, remembering our sleepovers from middle school. She thought it was cute, and so did we. One last middle school sleepover before getting slapped in the face by the real world.

On her way out she turned and asked, "Lisa, did your father serve you alcohol?"

"Yeah, Mom, he did. But we thought it was allowed because he, like, offered it..."

"Well, we had not discussed it, and I don't even know if it's legal, much less appropriate."

"Ha! I don't think that's what was inappropriate..." Lisa blurted. I don't think she meant to. It was sort of just a defensive reaction she told me later. She didn't mean to get her dad into trouble.

Her mom turned to her intently and asked, "what exactly are you saying, Lisa?"

"Well, you should have seen the way he was looking at Violet..."

"What? Was he looking at you inappropriately, Violet?" she asked me, looking DEAD serious.

"Well, I guess a bit," I said, prevaricating, not wanting to totally throw either him or Lisa under the bus.

"But then it's what he said..." added Lisa, trying to deflect the discussion away from our drinking even more.

Lisa's mom spoke in crisp, clear, words, one at a time: "What, exactly, did he say?"

"I think, 'nice suit' or something like that?" I said, answering her.

Lisa's mom inhaled sharply through her nose.

"You were wearing the bikini I saw you in earlier?"

"Yeah... I guess I should've brought a different swimsuit."

"Absolutely not. You should feel free around our pool to wear whatever swimsuit you feel comfortable in. He's the one who needs to learn to keep his eyes and potty mouth to HIMSELF. At any rate, I'm very, very sorry that this happened, Violet, and I can ASSURE you it WILL NOT happen again."

With that she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Oh Shit! Lisa and I looked at each other, our mouths dropped open. He was in trou-a-ble!

"What's she 'gonna do?" I asked Lisa in a whisper.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, he's not going to like it."

"That's for sure," I agreed.

Then I giggled, wrinkled my nose, and said, "but whatever it is, he does deserve it."

"Oh, yeah!" Lisa agreed, a smile on her face as well.

We're such bitches!

I'd assumed he'd get a really strict scolding. Maybe sleeping on the couch for a while (that's what my mom does when she's super pissed at my dad). That's what I meant when I said he'd deserve it. And then it looked like it was starting out that way, because we heard the shouting start almost immediately.


Scolding

"DAVID FRASER! You get over here right this minute!"

It was a bit muffled through the closed door, but still clear as anything. Lisa turned off the TV and opened the door a smidge. She sat back with a big shit-eating grin on her face, matching mine. We're such nosey Parkers!

"WHAT THE HELL were you thinking of? Serving ALCOHOL to the girls? Are you CRAZY? The legal drinking age is 21. TWENTY-ONE! You know that!"

"but... but... honey... I mean... they're mature for their age... I thought..."

"NO! That's just it. You DIDN'T think! It's legal for you to allow your daughter to have alcohol, not that you should, but IT IS ABSOLUTELY AGAINST THE LAW to serve her friend a drink. ARE YOU AN IDIOT? Don't you know that?"

"Please, honey. Keep your voice down. The girls will hear..."

"Never mind that. Answer my question. Are you an IDIOT?"

"No... I... it's just..."

"AND THEN... as if that's not already enough, were you 'checking out' Violet? Really?"

"No... I..."

"DO NOT lie to me right now! DO NOT!"

"Well... okay... I  guess.... I mean... a litt..."

"AND THEN you made a COMMENT? About her SWIMSUIT!?! What did you say?"

"I mean... only... well... that it was nice..."

"IT WAS NICE!?! You're leering at a young girl, your daughter's age no less, her FRIEND, and you make an inappropriate comment about her bikini bathing suit? Have I got that right? Have you lost your mind?"

"Well..."

"David..."

"yes ma'am..."


I looked over at Lisa. Holy shit that's a scolding! Lisa put her hand over her mouth, barely able to keep from laughing out loud. That got me going and I had to do the same. All over my little swimsuit. OMG!

"I guess he's in the dog house now," I said.

"Oh, yes," answered Lisa.

We listened some more as the scolding continued.


"It's not enough that you leer at every pretty woman you pass on the street. When I'm right there beside you, no less. I've put up with that. But now you bring it home. You make a guest of our's uncomfortable. You make your daughter uncomfortable. You embarrass me, and you embarrass yourself! What have you got to say for yourself?"

"I... I'm just... I'm sorry, sweetie, please..."

"Don't 'I'm sorry me'. You're NOT sorry. Not in the least. Except for being a sorry excuse for a husband. But YOU WILL be sorry. I GUARANTEE it. Now get that naughty bottom of your's upstairs."

"No... honey..."

"You heard me. Get that naughty bottom right upstairs. Right to our bedroom. Right now."

"No! Please! Honey! Please! The... the girls..."

"The girls will get an earful tonight. Now get upstairs and get what's coming to you."

"Ohhhhhh..."


Huh? I looked over at Lisa, who looked just as confused as I. "Naughty bottom" she said???

"What's happening?" I asked.

"I don't know..."

We heard Mr. and Mrs. Fraser coming up the stairs. As they were doing that we heard a big SWAT sound. Like a hand on a clothed bum. And then an "UP!" from Lisa's mom.

"Did she swat him?" I asked Lisa in a whisper voice, my eyes wide with surprise 

"I don't know... I guess..."

"Is she 'gonna, like, spank him?" I asked.

"No... impossible," Lisa said, though not looking too sure of that just then.

We heard them as they crossed the hallway and went into their bedroom adjoining ours. They shut the door behind them. We closed our door back up and eagerly put our ears to the shared wall. We could hear everything! Mrs. Fraser had said we would get an earfull, so I guess she was expecting us to be listening. But to what? Naive as I was, and despite the evidence to-date, I couldn't even imagine, not really, and neither could Lisa.


Punishment

We heard them talking.

"Get your clothes off. Every stitch. And lie face down on the bed!"


(!!!)


"Honey, please! The girls... they're just next door. Please can we handle this when Lisa and her friend aren't here? Like normal? Please!?!"

"No! You offended the girls and they have every right to hear what's about to happen. Now do as I say before I change my mind and invite them in to WATCH as well."

"No! Okay... okay... look, I'm doing it. I'm doing it!"


OMG, "watch"? Watch what? Him undressing for bed??? Lisa was just as confused as me.


"Good. Now put the pillows under your hips. All three of them. That's right. Get it nice and high for me."


Lisa and I were both imagining the scene in the other room. I think Mr. Fraser was buck naked, face down on the bed, with his bare ass sticking up!

We heard a drawer opening and then closing again, and then a sort of SNAP sound.


"Oh... please no... honey... please! Please not that! Please!"

"Oh yes. You've certainly earned it. You've earned the strapping of your life!"


Oh my God! He was going to get the strap! He was going to be strapped, presumably across his bare ass! By Mrs. Fraser. I couldn't believe this! I had heard of "strappings", like in fiction maybe, but not in real life. And not with a grownup on the receiving end from his wife!

"She's gonna strap him," I said pointlessly to Lisa.

She gulped and said, "I guess so."

"Does she like, ever do this?"

"No. Never. At least not when I was ever in the house."

"Did you ever get strapped?" I asked Lisa.

"No. Never. Talking. That was it."

"Well I think your dad's getting more than a talking-to tonight," I said, still not believing it myself.

And then it was just too funny, and Lisa laughed aloud, quickly covering her mouth, and so did I! Her dad was gonna get strapped!


"Honey! The girls..." said Mr. Fraser on the other side of the wall. I guess he heard us.

"...will hear every stroke," Mrs. Fraser confirmed.

"Oooohhhhhh..." 

I don't think I've ever heard a more pathetic, a more embarrassed sound in my life then what emanated from poor Mr. Fraser just then.

"To be perfectly clear, you're being strapped for your behaviour today. I'm going to give you fifty strokes, as hard as I can. You're going to learn your lesson," Mrs. Fraser declared, her voice filled with determination.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I imagined the scene unfolding in the room next door. Lisa and I exchanged knowing glances, our eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"Please, Julie, not the strap. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare at Violet like that. It won't happen again, I promise," he pleaded, his voice breaking with desperation.

"Too late for apologies, David. You're going to be punished for your actions. Now get ready," she replied, her voice cold and unyielding.

Suddenly, the sound of the strap connecting with his bare skin filled the air, followed by a sharp yelp of pain.

"One," she counted, her voice stern and unyielding.

Another yelp, followed by a sob, escaped his lips as the strap connected with his skin once more.

"Two," Mrs. Fraser continued, her voice unwavering.

"Please, Julie, I'm sorry, I'll never do it again," David pleaded, his voice thick with tears.

"Three," she counted, ignoring his pleas.

"You're going to learn your lesson tonight, David. You're going to be a good husband and father from now on," she scolded, her voice filled with contempt.

"Four," she continued, the sound of the strap hitting her husband's skin echoing through the house.

"I promise, Julie, I'll be better, I'll be a better man," he sobbed, his voice barely audible over the sound of the strap connecting with his skin.

"Five," Lisa's mom counted, her voice unwavering.

As the sound of the strap continued to fill the air, Lisa and I exchanged glances, our amusement growing with each passing moment. We could hardly believe what we were hearing, and the absurdity of the situation made it hard to contain our laughter.

"Six," Mrs. Fraser counted, her voice growing more determined with each passing moment.

Lisa's dad's sobs grew louder, his voice cracking under the strain of the punishment.

"Please, Julie, I'm begging you, stop," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Seven," she counted, ignoring her husband's desperate pleas. I couldn't believe she was going to give him FIFTY!

The count kept going up, higher and higher. She never paused. She never slowed down. She never sped up. His cries, however, got louder and louder, and his begging became more and more intense. By the time Mrs. Fraser had reached the halfway mark at twenty-five, Mr. Fraser was absolutely desperate. He was crying continuously, shouting at the tops of his lungs, promising over and over that he would never, ever, do anything like it again. It was humiliating for us to even hear it. A "man" reduced to this?

But the strapping didn't stop at twenty-five, it went on and on to thirty, thirty-five, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, and, finally, finally, FIFTY. 

As the final stroke of the strap connected with his skin, a sense of relief washed over me. I was glad it was finally over. Fuck she was harsh! He could hardly cry by the end of it. And knowing Lisa and I were listening! I mean how bad was that for Lisa's dad. I'll BET he learned his lesson! But above it all, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had been punished for his inappropriate behaviour that had made me so uncomfortable. I made up my mind to wear the same suit tomorrow. Positively FLAUNT myself, and dare him to look!

"Holy shit!" Lisa mouthed the words I was thinking.

"He sure caught it," I said.

"Did he ever! He won't dare to look at you tomorrow," Lisa said, which was exactly what I had been thinking.

His crying had calmed down a bit by now, and I heard softer words from Lisa's mom, almost comforting and cooing. I guess he'd been punished and now was forgiven?

The crying went on for a bit longer then dropped off. As the night wore on, Lisa and I drifted off to sleep, our minds filled with the events of the evening. It was a night we would certainly never forget.


Breakfast

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside their window. I stretched and yawned, and shook Lisa awake also. I opened the drapes and our eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming into the room. As we sat up in bed, we looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"I can't believe we heard all that last night," Lisa giggled.

"Yeah, it was pretty wild," I agreed, grinning from ear to ear. "I guess we'll never look at your dad the same way again."

"Should we change?" I asked Lisa.

"Nah. Breakfast in PJs! We can change right into our suits afterwards and catch some more rays."

"Okay, but, you know, I don't want to get your dad in trouble again," I said, pointing at myself. Did I mention how my PJs were a bit small on me? They really hugged my curves. My ass especially.

"Oh, it's perfect," said Lisa. "I want to see his reaction. I mean, imagine if Mom catches him staring?"

"I can't even," I said with a giggle, and we bounded down the stairs.


Mrs. F was already there with breakfast well on the way. Blueberry-banana flapjacks, bacon, and sausage. Yums!

"David! Breakfast time!" Mrs. Fraser yelled up to her husband.

"It's okay... I think I'll skip breakfast today," we heard faintly from Mr. Fraser from the upstairs bedroom.

Lisa and I looked at each other and giggled. Mrs. Fraser looked at us and winked, then said. "David. Don't be rude. We have a guest. Get that naughty bottom of yours down here this instant!"

We heard a groan from upstairs and then movement. Mrs. Fraser smiled at us smugly. We then heard a very slow and laboured descent down the stairs. Mr. Fraser walked into the kitchen, or should I say hobbled in. He was looking very stiff and very sore. Lisa and I couldn't help but giggle again.

"Girls!" Mrs. Fraser said, scolding us, but with a big grin on her face herself.

His eyes were red and puffy, and his face was pale and drawn. He looked up at us as he entered the room, his expression one of deep embarrassment and shame. His eyes passed over me, and he instantly looked away and down at the floor as all three of us laughed.

"Good morning," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"Morning, Daddy," Lisa replied, trying to suppress her smile.

"Hey, Mr. Fraser," I said, my voice bright and cheerful. "Nice day, huh?"

He nodded, unable to meet our gaze. Lisa and I exchanged knowing glances and stifled giggles as he moved towards the table. We couldn't help but feel a little bit smug, knowing that we had heard his abject humiliation firsthand.

"And how are you feeling this morning, David?" Mrs. Fraser asked him.

"Fine..." he mumbled.

"Fine? I wasn't expecting that," said Lisa's mom. "I was expecting you to be still a bit sore from yesterday night's activities. I think I might just have to freshen you up this morning?"

"No, no! I mean, I am sore. Very sore!"

"Sit down and eat your breakfast, that's a good boy."

Mr. Fraser looked at his hard wooden chair, and with a groan lowered himself stiffly down onto it. As he sat, he jumped up once, before settling down again, a pained expression on his face.

"Such histrionics," Mrs. Fraser said, and then we all ate breakfast.


The Damage

After breakfast, Lisa and I jumped up to clear.

"Thank you, girls. Just leave them there in the sink. I'll take care of them later."

Lisa and I were about to go up and change into our swimsuits, when Mrs. Fraser stopped us.

"Before you go girls, I should explain the reason why Mr. Fraser is so sore this morning..."

Lisa and I both knew, and Mrs. Fraser knew that, but I guess she wanted to humiliate him a bit more, which I for one was all in for.

I played along and said, "Please tell us Mrs. F. We heard a commotion, and what sounded like a spanking of some sort, and a lot of tears, but we weren't sure what was going on."

"Well dear, I had to punish Lisa's dad last night for serving you both alcohol, and for looking at you in an inappropriate way, and for making an utterly inappropriate comment. Is that not so, David?"

"yes, ma'am," he answered in a small, pathetic voice.

"I gave him a good old fashioned strapping right across his bare bum. He won't be sitting comfortably for quite some time, will you, dear?"

"no, ma'am."

"Indeed not. The strap is very thick and very heavy, and hurts just like the dickens, doesn't it?"

"yes, dear."

"Now normally, if I have to punish him, I do it when the house is empty. But in light of how he offended you two, I thought it was appropriate that you would hear his punishment. Was that embarrassing, David? Was it embarrassing that your daughter and her friend heard you being punished like that?"

Poor Mr. Fraser blushed three shades of red.

"yes, dear... very.... embarrassing."

"We'll, you should be embarrassed. You embarrassed all of us by your actions, I thought it was only fair that you be embarrassed in turn. But I don't think it's good enough that the girls only got to hear your punishment, I think they should be allowed to see the results of your punishment..."

"No... Julie! Please!"

Yes, I thought, please yes! I was curious!

"Stand up, David. Face away from the girls, and drop 'em."

"No, honey, please, I... I... can't!"

"You can and you will. If you persist in your refusals, I'll go right upstairs and fetch the strap, and the girls can hold you down while I give you a nice even 100-stroke strapping. That way they won't just have heard a strapping, but they'll have seen one as well."

"No... not that... please..."

"Look at me, David. Look at me in the eyes. Do you think I'm someone who would not follow through on a threat like that? Do you not think I'm not willing and capable of doing that? Answer me."

"No."

"So you have a choice. Drop 'em and show the girls the results of last night's strapping, or we'll have the girls see an even worse strapping now. Your choice. Choose wisely."

"I'll... I'll show them..."

Yes!

"Very wise choice, David. Now up you get. Over there where they can see you. Turn your back to them. We won't want the girls seeing more than they need to, would we?"

Mr. Fraser's heart must have raced as he realized there was no way out of the situation. He slowly stood up from his chair, trudged over to a clear spot in the middle of the kitchen, turned his back towards us, and, with trembling hands, unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor, his belt buckle jangling. He was wearing a T-shirt that just came down to his waist, and a very uncool pair of somewhat worn and shapeless tighty-whiteys. With a deep sigh he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his undies, and slipped them down to his ankles also, bending in the process. He stayed down as we surveyed the damage, his knees and legs tightly together; his hands, that we could not see, likely cupping his crotch.

Lisa and I both gasped at the sight of his swollen, strap-whipped bottom. Mr. Fraser must have felt a wave of humiliation wash over him, because he let out a loud groan. Mrs. Fraser's smug expression could only have added to his embarrassment. His ass was messed up. And I mean, MESSED UP! There were rectangular welts all hither and thither, criss-crossing his bum. Some parts were bruised purple. Others a deep crimson red. This was overlaid on a continuous canvas of angry red. No wonder he walked so funny and looked so sore. The welts went down the high backs of his legs also, and extending around the sides of his hips and legs, some even disappearing into the valley of his inner thighs.

Mrs. Fraser walked up to him and started stroking his bum.

"Come here girls. You can feel the welts and feel the heat rising still."

Lisa looked tentative, but I jumped right in, running my hand all over his beaten ass. She was right! It was giving off heat like a furnace! And the welts were raised several millimeters. Seeing my reaction, Lisa came over and reached out as well. She was equally amused.

"You can see I wrapped a few around his hips by accident, but he was wriggling so much it was hard to aim."

Mr. Fraser mewled.

"I even got right into his inner thighs. Those I wrapped on purpose." She reached for the flesh of his thighs, and pulled on it to show the welts going deep inside. All the while Mr. Fraser kept his legs desperately closed, not wanting us to see his junk, I guessed.

"And in here also, a few wrapping around right into his bum cleft. Those must have hurt, eh, David?"

He whimpered in answer to the rhetorical question, then blurted, "No!" as Mrs. Fraser pulled his cheeks apart to show us the strap marks wrapping into his cleft. His bumhole was on, like, FULL DISPLAY, and even I felt a bit embarrassed seeing that, but apparently not as embarrassed as him the way he groaned and complained, "nooooooo..." And it wasn't just me seeing his bumhole, it was his daughter as well!

Mrs. Fraser held his bum cheeks open way longer than she needed to, then let them go and gave his ass a little slap.

"Now, David," Mrs Fraser said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "get up and go stand against the wall like the naughty little boy you are."

Mr. Fraser groaned again and started to pull his pants back up. Mrs. Fraser stepped on them, keeping them down.

"No, no. The pants and undies stay DOWN during timeout."

He shuffled over to the big blank yellow-painted kitchen wall, his hands covering his crotch and his pants and underpants pooled around his ankles. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He looked so small and vulnerable, like a naughty little boy being punished by his mommy.

"Hands on your head," Mrs. Fraser called out. He groaned again and complied. From the angle we were at, we couldn't see his junk, but I was pretty sure we could if we were at the doorway to the living room. I admit to being curious. I mean, we'd seen everything else!


The Apology

Well, my wish was about to be granted as, almost as an afterthought, Mrs. Fraser "suddenly" remembered that he had not yet apologized to me.

"Actually, David, before you start your timeout I think you owe Violet an apology."

"I'm sorry, Violet," he said to me from the corner. Not very satisfying!

"David! Face Ms. Violet and give her a proper apology. Hands stay right where they are. Pants also."

With an extreme whimper, Mr. Fraser slowly turned to face me. Oh my God! His junk was, like, RIGHT THERE! I mean, I'd been with some guys before, but it was always dark and gropey. Never just "all out" like Mr. Fraser's were!

"I'm v...v...very s...s...sorry that I... ah... looked at you... um... ina... inappropriately... and um... that I... I.... s...s...said inappropriate things about... y.... y... your swimsuit."

He was blushing all over his body! From the top of his forehead to his knees! He could barely get the words out before the tears started falling down his cheeks. Mrs. F had surely broken him. And then once he was done, to prolong the agony, she just kept him there, squirming in agony, as I took my good 'ol time to examine every detail of his cock and balls. His testicles dangled pretty far and were super loose. His cock just sort of flopped there. I guess he was cut, because he had this big red-purple mushroom on the end of his cock.

I looked over at Lisa and we both giggled at the sight. She was checking out her dad as much as I was!

"Are you girls having a good look?" Asked Lisa's mom.

"Yes, Mrs. Fraser," I answered, just as Lisa answered, "yes, Mom."

"So how does it feel, David? How does it feel being 'checked out' by members of the opposite sex with such a ridiculous age gap?"

"sniff.. not good... sniff..." he answered faintly, tears steaming.

"Well now that you know what it feels like, maybe you won't do it anymore."

"Yes, ma'am. I won't ma'am. I promise. May I please go back to the wall now?" he begged.

Mrs. Fraser laughed. "Ha ha! I've never seen a naughty boy so eager for timeout as you. Yes you may return to your naughty wall."


Timeout

Mr. Fraser gratefully made his way back and turned and faced the wall. Mrs. F came up to him and put her hand on the back of his head and pressured it gently into the wall.

"Do you feel how your nose is pressed against the wall?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You will keep your nose pressed against the wall like this. Girls, come over here."

Lisa and I went over to either side of Lisa's dad and we looked at how Mrs. F had his nose smooshed against the wall. We also both happened to look down, and got another good side view of his cock and balls, especially as he sort of had to lean into the wall, with his feet a bit away, and arch his back a bit to keep his nose smooshed.

"The girls and I will be checking on you periodically. If any of us catch you with your nose not pressed this hard against the wall, you'll get that 100-stroke strapping I promised you, and right in front of the girls. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You're going to be in timeout all day long. You're allowed two bathroom breaks, with permission, one in the morning, one in the afternoon. Use them wisely or you'll find yourself standing in a puddle. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am."


As the day went on, we would each occasionally come into the kitchen, laughing and pointing at the naughty boy with his red bum sticking out, desperately trying to keep his nose pressed against the wall. His legs shook, tears streamed down his face, and his bottom wiggled as he struggled to maintain his position.

At one point, with me there, even Lisa couldn't help but tease her father. "Well, well, well, look at the naughty boy," she said, laughing. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before staring at my friend's body."

I giggled, and added, "Yeah, you're lucky I don't have my phone out to snap a picture of this."

He could only whimper in response, the humiliation almost too much for him to bear.


Bathroom Break

Once when I walked past to grab a diet soda, Mr. Fraser called out to me.

"Violet?" he ventured.

"Yes, David," I answered, using his first name.

"I think I need to... go..."

"Go? Go where?" I asked, milking it.

"Go to the... bathroom..."

He seemed very distressed, wriggling and pushing his legs together. His embarrassment and humiliation were already at an all-time high, but I'll bet the thought of wetting himself only added to his distress.

"Could you please ask Mrs. Fraser if I may go to the bathroom?"

I looked at him, a smirk playing on my lips. "Sure, David," I  said, my voice light and teasing. "Oh, is it number one or number two?"

His face flushed with embarrassment. "Number one," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

I walked back out to Mrs. F who was at the pool and relayed her husband's request.

She nodded, a look of satisfaction on her face. "I suppose so. Violet, would you be so kind as to escort David to the bathroom and assist him?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I giggled and nodded, my eyes dancing with amusement. "Of course, Mrs. Fraser," I said, my voice playful.

"Oh, but his pants and undies stay where they are, and his hands stay on his head. You may need to... ahem... aim the stream?"

I laughed and readily agreed. It appeared we weren't quite done with Lisa's poor old daddy-oh just yet!

I went back to him and said, "Come on you," taking him by the ear and leading him. "Wife's orders, hands and pants stay where they are."

As we walked to the bathroom, I could feel his embarrassment growing with each step. I was sure he could feel my eyes on him, and he was no doubt painfully aware of his exposed genitals with his hands on his head.

When we reached the bathroom, Mrs. F's instructions echoed in my mind. His pants and underpants stayed at his ankles, and his hands remained on his head. I stood beside him, my eyes fixed on his face.

"Go on," I said.

He lined up carefully and began to urinate. I'm sure it was a big relief, the way he was squirming before.

But as he kept going I noticed a splatter on the bowl. I reached down for his cock and directed the stream with my hand. "It goes IN the bowl," I scolded.

His embarrassment reached new heights as he stood there, his face burning with humiliation. He must have felt like a helpless toddler, completely exposed and at the mercy of those around him. Me, a young girl in my alluring bikini, held his manhood with a gentle yet firm grip, guiding the stream of his urine into the porcelain abyss.

The contrast between our ages and attire must have only added to his shame. I could literally feel the heat radiating from his cheeks as he tried to focus on anything but the situation at hand. The gentle sway of my hips and my unyielding grip on his most private part all I hoped conspired to make this the most humiliating moment of his life.

As the last drops of his embarrassment splashed into the toilet, his body trembled with the effort to remain still. And then, of course, the inevitable happened.

As I shook the last drops of pee from his cocktip I felt his arousal growing. It was all too much for him to handle.

"Mr. Fraser!" I cried out in mock outrage as I held his member tightly as it surged against my closed hand, inexorably growing and growing.

"I'm sorry!" he wailed. "Please don't tell Julie!" he begged.

"No, she wouldn't approve of this at all, would she?" I said as I pump-squeezed his stiffening cock in my hot little hand. I leaned over and spat on it, then rubbed my spittle in as he moaned and danced, his hands, unbelievably, still on his head.

"No, Violet... don't! Please! It's wrong!"

"It certainly is..." I agreed. "Would you like me to stop?" I asked in a sing-song voice.

He seemed very conflicted. Ha ha!

I reached my other hand around to his ass and began lightly spanking it as I pumped his cock towards the toilet.

"Bad, bad, boy," I said as I spanked him, but never stopping the rubbing. I then licked my finger, went groping for his bumhole, and pushed my finger in.

"Ohhhhhh!" he cried out as I massaged the insides of his bumhole with one hand and his cock with my other.

"Would you like me to make you cum? If you want it, you have to ask me. 'Please, Violet...'"

"Oh. Ahhh. Noooo..."

"When are you ever going to get to be with a girl like me again?" I asked him. "Are you really going to miss out on this? Something you've been dreaming about. Come on, I know you have. You'll be able to think back on this moment the rest of your life. Now, 'Please, Violet...'"

"Ohhh. Ahhhh.  P...P...Please, Violet..."

"Please what, Mr. Fraser?"

"Please, jerk me off into the toilet!"

Success! Now he got the rugged pulled.

I pulled my finger out of his old asshole with a plop and instantly dropped his cock.

"Ewwwww! I can't believe you actually wanted that! I'm your daughter's age, Mr. Fraser. That is sooo gross! Oh, I'm going to tell on you!"

"No! No, Please! Violet, please! Don't! Please? Please?"

He just stood there shaking and begging, his unfulfilled hard cock bouncing in the air as he stood there in front of a bowl of piss with his pants around his ankles and his hands (still, even now) interlaced on top of his head, I must have caught him right near the point of no return, because he shook and shimmied his hips, his cock bouncing ridiculously and helplessly, probably just seconds before the release he so much craved.

I washed my hands as he stood there, then went back to him and used a washcloth to clean off his cock of my saliva and some of what must have been his pre-cum. It was still hard as anything. I slapped it dry saying, "bad, bad, boy. Bad, bad, cock."

"Please don't tell Julie," he whined. I wasn't going to, but I enjoyed my sense of power over him.

"We'll, I guess I better not. I mean, I did tease you and everything. But we better get you back to your wall and you can concentrate on getting this thing soft again. God help you if Lisa or your wife finds you like this."

With that, I grabbed a firm hold of his cock and began leading him back towards his timeout spot.  He complained the whole way, stumbling trying to keep up, as I kept up a constant pull. When we got back to his wall, I smooshed his head back against it like Mrs. F showed us. But this time, his nose wasn't the only thing touching the wall, his cocktip was as well!

"You had better not leave a spot with that," I warned, and he instantly pulled his hips further back, further jutting out his ass and arching his back to compensate. I left him like that and returned to the pool.

"Any problems?" Mrs. F asked me.

"Not for me..." I said, giggling, as Mrs. F smirked back at me, suspecting her husband no doubt had trouble with me as his bikini-clad "nurse". She didn't know the half of it!


Spanking

Around noon-time we all headed in for lunch. Poor Mr. F was still standing there, nose smooshed, for going on over three hours now. His legs were trembling and tears of pain were streaming down his face. He mewled pitifully from his punishment position. Mrs. F was cruel!

"David," asked Mrs. F, "would you like for me to let you sit for the rest of your timeout?"

"Oh, Gawd! Yes! Yes, please!" he confirmed instantly.

"Very well. Stand up. Stretch. You may take your hands off your head and your nose off the wall."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

He straightened painfully and rubbed at his low back. Where his nose had been, there was a dark sweat mark on the wall. His nose was all discoloured, having been smooshed almost continuously for so many hours. His cock and balls were plain as day. He had no shame anymore, clearly.

"There's only one condition," Mrs. F said. "And that's a spanking."

"Oh, no... please! My bum. Please!"

"It won't be a strapping, David. You'll just have to come across my knee for a hand spanking, just like a little boy, but right in front of the girls so they can watch. And don't think I'll take it easy on you, but it won't be anywhere near like a strapping. Choose."

"The... the spanking," he barely whispered, blushing red.

"Just like..." Mrs. F prompted.

"just like... a little boy," he repeated, cringing. Lisa and I LOL'd.

Mrs. F pulled an armless wooden kitchen chair out from behind the table and placed it in the middle of the open space in the kitchen, facing us who were at the table. She sat gracefully and said, "come on now, let's get this over with so I can serve the girls their lunch."

Mr. Fraser walked miserably over to his wife, his cock and balls all free-ranging it – they were by now the least of his concerns – and he draped himself across her lap. Lisa and I both giggled again. The site of her dad across her mum's knee, like a child ready for its spanking, was ridiculous.

She lifted her hand and brought it down with a prodigious whack on first one cheek, then the other, then across the center over both, and then repeat. Mr. F really seemed to be suffering!

"It hurts after that strapping, doesn't it?" Asked Mrs. F as she merrily spanked away.

"Yessssss!" he confirmed through gritted teeth, his legs kicking and flailing in the air as Mrs. F spanked him. It was hilarious, I thought. Poor Mr. F! Reduced to the status of a snivelling child across mommy's knee as his daughter and I watched.


My Little Pony Timeout

After a relatively short spanking, she let him up again. He reached back and began rubbing his bum almost comically, something I guess he was allowed to do because Mrs. F just smiled at him and let him do it.

Mrs. Fraser descended down into the basement and then came back up with a small child's chair. It was old-fashioned looking, made of wood. It was painted pink with rainbows and "My Little Pony". I guess it had been Lisa's as a small child and her mom was keeping it in case of grandkids. She put it down facing the kitchen corner, and then told him to sit.

Poor Mr. Fraser looked ridiculous as he sat in his little punishment timeout chair, his knees up around his chest, his pants still pooled at his ankles, the center of his bare spanked butt pressing down on the hard wood with the rest of his ass hanging off to either side.

"Wait! I remember when I used to have to sit in the corner like that!" exclaimed Lisa with a mirthful laugh. "I must have been, what, six years old?"

"Even younger," her mom said, "and you were never spanked and your bum was certainly not bare while sitting there. And you only had to sit there for five minutes."

"I remember it felt longer!"

But it was no five-year-old in the corner now. It was a forty-five-year-old who just looked like one!

As he sat in the naughty chair, his face flushed and his eyes downcast, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. He had been punished for his inappropriate behaviour, and it seemed that Mrs. F wasn't quite done with him yet.


Quite a Stretch

Mrs. F disappeared upstairs and returned with a large, black dildo and a bottle of lube.

"What the hell?" I thought to myself. Thus was getting kinkier by the moment, but I was all in! I looked over at Lisa, who was visibly cringing. Yeah, I got that. I'd have been the same if it was my dad.

"David," Mrs. F said sternly, "Get up. You're going to bend over the kitchen table for me."

His eyes widened in fear, but he knew better than to argue. He stood up and walked over to the kitchen table, his hands covering his genitals. I guess he still had some shame about his cock and balls. He bent over the table, his ass in the air. His hands reached for the far side as he whimpered, "please, no, Julie..."

Mrs. F walked over to him, slipping on a pair of yellow kitchen gloves. She squirted a generous amount of lube onto her fingers and began to massage his asshole. He let out a small whimper as she slowly inserted one finger into his tight hole.

"Oh, David," she said, "you're going to have to open up wider for me."

She pushed her finger deeper into his asshole, and I could see his face contort in pain and humiliation as his knuckles turned white gripping the far side of the table. But Mrs. F wasn't done yet. She added a second finger, stretching his tight hole even wider, giving it a real roto-routering!

"Lisa, Violet," she said, "come over here and hold David's cheeks apart for me."

Lisa and I walked over and each grabbed one of his ass cheeks, pulling them apart to give Mrs. F better access to his asshole. I could feel my heart racing as I watched her lube up the large dildo and press it against his asshole.

"Now, David," she said, "take a deep breath and relax."

He did as he was told, and she slowly began to push the dildo into his asshole. I watched in fascination as his asshole slowly opened up to accommodate the large, black dildo. Lisa and I held our breath as the bulbous head of the dildo finally popped into her dad's asshole.

He moaned loudly at the massive intrusion. Poor guy!

"Oh, David," Mrs. F said, "you're doing so well. Now let's see how much of this you can take."

She pushed the dildo deeper into his asshole, and I could hear him let out multiple low moans. She continued to fuck him with the dildo, pushing it in and out of his asshole with long, slow strokes. I'd never been fucked in the ass, and seeing this made me never want to be!

Finally, Mrs. F pushed the dildo all the way into her husband's poor abused asshole, and I could see his ass cheeks quivering as he struggled to accommodate the large toy.

With the dildo firmly in place, she walked her husband waddling back to his naughty chair and made him sit back down on it, right on the base of the dildo. He let out a pained cry as the dildo must have pressed DEEP into his asshole.

"Now, David," Mrs. F said, "you're going to sit on this chair for the rest of the afternoon. Every time you move, the dildo is going to punish you. Do you understand?"

Mr. Fraser nodded weakly, his eyes filled with tears.

Mrs. F then pulled out another thing she had brought downstairs with her. "Open up," she said, and her husband opened his mouth with a new wail of distress.

It was a kind of gag that fastened around the back of his head with leather straps. In front, it was shaped just like a cock! He had to open his mouth very wide to accommodate its girth, even more so as Mrs. F brutally tightened the straps around the back of his head.

Mrs. F smiled and walked away, leaving her husband to suffer.


Uncomfortable Timeout

As the afternoon wore on, I watched as he rocked back and forth on the chair, unable to find any sort of comfortable position whatsoever, his face twisted in pain. Each time he moved, the dildo would shift inside his asshole, causing him to let out a low moan as it fucked him some more. I wondered how many inches of cock, more like miles, he had to take that afternoon as the dildo slid in and out and around while he fidgeted.

He tried using his hands to alleviate the pressure, but each time they soon gave out which made the cock inevitably fuck him even deeper when his strength failed him. This did, however, keep his cock and balls, like, TOTALLY on display to his daughter and me.

To make matters worse, the big cock-gag was making him drool like crazy, and the drool dripped down his chin and right down onto his belly and his junk. His jaw must have been so sore! I mean, I've given head before, and even five minutes of that hurt my jaw, and that guy's cock was no way the size of the dildo Lisa's dad had in his mouth.

Looking back, I'd bet Mr. F would have been happier just standing with his nose against the wall. The way it was, he had instead gotten a spanking in front of us, had to sit in timeout in that ridiculous little pink "My Little Pony" rainbow chair, all while getting just brutally fucked in his mouth and up his asshole. And by BIG cocks. But did he really have a choice? I didn't think so.

How did I feel about it all? Well, honestly, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as I watched him suffer. He had been punished for his inappropriate behavior, and it was clear that he would never make the same mistake again. I mean, this is how you stop sex offenders, you nip it in the bud, decisively, just as Mrs. F had done. I mean, it starts with staring at a girl's ass, but where would it end? I was pretty sure Mr. F would avert his gaze for a long time to come, just the way he so quickly looked away and looked at the floor when I appeared that morning in my too tight PJs. Even though I was the aggrieved party,  I was grateful to have been invited to participate in his punishment.


Righteous Warning

As the afternoon wore on, Mrs. F finally decided that her husband had been punished enough. She walked over to him, took off his gag, pulled him back to the kitchen table, bent him over, and and pulled the dildo out of his asshole with a pop, causing him to let out a loud cry. His asshole stayed, like a whole inch or so gaped open! It was streee-etched.

"Dad, your asshole. You're such a slut," said Lisa as we all laughed while he groaned in embarrassment.

"Alright, David," Mrs. F said, "you can go clean yourself up now. But remember, if you ever disrespect a woman like that again, you'll be punished even more severely."

Lisa's dad nodded weakly and slowly made his way to the bathroom. As he walked away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of righteous Justice. He had been taught a lesson, a REAL lesson, and I knew that he would never make the same mistake again.