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.