e-Subbie Gingered Timeout

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Fiction: Bare It All! (M/F)

Some new fiction today. Idea popped into my head to really do the game show thing properly. Very limited AI assist on this one.

Hope you enjoy!

Bare It All!

Participating in a game show was never something I had on my bucket list. But the promise of a million-dollar prize was too tantalizing to pass up. My name is Julie, and this is the story of how my quest for a fortune turned into an evening of unimaginable embarrassment.

The name of the game show is "Bare It All!" and it was intended for a more late night, adult audience. It was your basic trivia show but with a twist: each time you got a question wrong you had to strip off an item of clothing of the five you were allowed. If you were so dumb as to lose all your clothes, there was a final challenge. Crazy, eh?

I was great at trivia, always smoking everybody I played with at home. I could almost taste the million! They wanted good looking people, obviously, and I thought I fit the bill pretty well, so I applied. After a bit of a selection process, I made it! We had to sign crazy waivers, but I was confident so signed away, barely reading the fine print.

The fateful day arrived. The bright lights of the studio were almost blinding as I stepped onto the stage. The audience’s murmur filled the air, a mix of excitement and anticipation. There were five of us: three women and two men. We could all wear whatever we wanted, so long as it was only five things. I went with heels, skirt, blouse, bra, and panties. I admit to liking being the center of attention and dressed accordingly!

I wanted them rooting for me to lose my clothes, which no way was happening! I sized up my competition. None were as attractive as me, I thought. Some of them looked pretty smart, though, but I wasn't worried. Did I mention I was a BEAST with trivia?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and determination. I wanted that money and the fame that would come with it. I even thought if I was far enough ahead, I might even deliberately get a question wrong, just to tantalize them. I'd leave my heels on and take off my blouse and show 'em my still modest but super sexy bra. That would help my social media for sure!

The game started with a flurry of questions. “What is the capital of France?” “Who wrote 'To Kill a Mockingbird'?” The questions came fast and furious, and I buzzed in eagerly. "Paris!" "Harper Lee!" The thrill of getting the answers right was exhilarating. But as the game progressed, my nerves began to fray. The questions grew more difficult, more obscure.

My opponents were pulling ahead. Shit they were good! They knew one obscure thing after another. I couldn't believe it. The questions didn't ever seem this hard in the home game.

“What is the chemical symbol for potassium?” I knew this! I buzzed in. "P!" I said confidently.

“Incorrect. It’s K,” the host announced with a hint of schadenfreude.

Shit! Shit! Shit! I said to myself. I knew that!

My heart sank as the spotlight focused on me. I had to remove an article of clothing. I had second thoughts about my blouse. Nobody else had lost anything yet. It was 'sorta embarrassing. But what the hell, it was still 'kinda going according to plan, except for the me being ahead and deliberately answering incorrectly part. I mean, other than that.. With hands more trembling than I ever thought they would be, I began unbuttoning my blouse.

An audible gasp went up from the studio. They were expecting my shoes, obvi. They must be thinking I was a bit of a slut, losing my blouse first. Good! That's the sort of notoriety that gets you followers. The podiums we were standing at were clear plexiglass, and I wanted my legs to look nice and long.

I kept telling myself it was just like wearing a bikini at the beach as I slipped the blouse off to some pretty raucous hoots and hollers. I did the stripper thing of spinning the blouse in the air and tossing it away, just to show I was a good sport. Some nameless show minion scooped it up. I was a star!

I pretended to be a bit embarrassed after that. I wanted to hit the right "girl next door" sort of vibe. It wasn't hard to act embarrassed. Very little "acting" required.

The cheers went on and on and the host had to work to settle the audience back down again. I know they wanted more, but they weren't getting any more as far as I was concerned!

The game continued, and I buzzed in again, desperate to start inching ahead again. “Who was the 16th President of the United States?” I knew this one, duh, and I was fastest on the buzzer. “Abraham Lincoln!” I shouted confidently. Beauty plus brains. Exactly the brand I wanted.

I was catching up, and maybe I got a bit too confident. “What year did the Titanic sink?” I buzzed in, too quickly. It was 1913, right? But I had second thoughts. Maybe it was 1912? “1913?” I guessed.

“Incorrect. 1912.”

Ah fuck! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Don't buzz when you don't know for sure! Stupid, stupid, bitch!

The spotlight found me again. In for a dime, in for a dollar. It's just like being in my bikini at the beach. I started undoing my skirt and pulled it off. A minion ran up and took it from me. Wasn't feeling the "stripper" vibe this time.

Shit. I was in my underwear and nobody else had even lost a single item except for the bookworm girl next to me who lost her flats. I tried to keep my chin up, saying it was just like being at the beach and ignoring the fact that hundreds in the audience and tens of thousands on TV were seeing me in my underwear and high heels. More hoots, holler, and catcalls. I wasn't sure I was enjoying it as much this time.

But my score was now pretty even. You didn't lose points for wrong answers, only clothes. I could still take a few chances, as it was only my heels at risk next.

The other contestants were playing it safe, only buzzing in when they were absolutely sure of the answer. Meanwhile, my competitive nature got the better of me. I buzzed in early and started pulling ahead, taking a few chances along the way.

Next up was a question about Greek mythology. I knew that cold, but I stupidly mixed up Hera and Athena. Ah fuck! I was still ahead, but another piece of clothing had to go. My shoes this time. I slipped them both off (together they counted as one item) and handed them to the male minion. Fuck! Now I'd look dumpy.

The questions kept coming. “Who painted the Mona Lisa?” “Leonardo da Vinci.” I got that one right. Who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2009?” I hesitated, then buzzed in. “Barack Obama?”

“Correct,” the host said. I was on a roll and was pulling ahead. I could play it safe. I let a few risky ones go, kicking myself each time because I would have gotten them right.

"In what year did the first recorded instance of cheese rolling occur in the English town of Brockworth, Gloucestershire, as part of the Cooper's Hill Cheese Rolling and Wake event?"

Ha ha! Everybody else was stumped on this one. Did I not say I was the TRIVIA QUEEN?

I buzzed in, "1821". Don't even ask me how I knew.

"Oh! Incorrect," the host said. 

What? No!

"The correct answer is the early 1820's but the exact date is unknown."

The FUCK! No! No way!

"But... but... it's 1821," I said, not believing this was happening.

"We'll get a second opinion from our judges..."

BUZZZZ

"No, I'm sorry that is NOT the correct answer, Julie."

THIS IS BULLSHIT!

I couldn't believe it had come to this! The contract said there was no disputing the judges. And if I walked off, the contract said I owed them $100K. I didn't have that kind of money! They'd sue me into bankruptcy.

"Titties! Titties! Titties!" came the braying cry from the audience.

This was NOT supposed to be my brand. My brand was wholesome, sexy, girl next door genius. Not OnlyFans slut! I couldn't believe this was happening to me.

I reached behind and unclipped my bra. I had no choice! I let the bra drop to my feet. I wasn't allowed to "cover up" according to the contract, so I had to stand there, tits out, while EVERYBODY looked and jeered.

And boy did they make noise. And not the good kind. My fellow contestants, none of whom had lost more than shoes at this point, laughed along with everybody else.

"Sorry if we keep it a little cold in the studio, Julie," said the host, mocking my stiffening nipples.

"It's all right, Alex," I said, trying to maintain what dignity I could. "I'm still winning that million dollars, top or no top."

"That's the spirit!" he said and continued on.

I did still have the high score at the time my bra came off, and there still was a good chance of winning it all, despite my humiliating circumstances.

But it was hard to concentrate after that. My mind kept going back to the humiliation of standing there bare-breasted in only my skimpy panties, and it slowed me down.

The egg-headed guy with glasses, a total dweeb who would never, ever, have a chance with a girl like me, kept buzzing in and getting question after question. This guy even still had his shoes! He pulled ahead. This WAS NOT happening! I was not going to go through this humiliation for nothing.

There was a question on the Roman Empire. I buzzed in. "Scipio Africanys!" I said confidently.

"We'll have to go to our judges for that one..."

What?

BUZZZZ

"I'm sorry Julie, there were two Scipio Africanys's, the Elder and the Younger, and the correct answer is Scipio Africanys the Elder."

He said it with a smirk. A FUCKING smirk on his face!

A huge roaring cheer went up from the crowd.

Blushing eight shades of red, I took off my panties and handed them to minion boy. This was sooooo humiliating!

Everything was on show. I mean... EVERYTHING!

The podium is made of plexiglass, I was not allowed to cover myself, so I was left to squirming naked where I was as everybody laughed at me. This was not how it was supposed to go down... and it was about to get worse.

"Since the fetching Julie here is now 100% naked, she gets to play The Wheel of Consequences!" The crowd went wild. They loved the Wheel of Consequences, clearly.

A Vanna White looking model type rolled onto stage a wheel of fortune sort of thing.

But instead of prizes, it had "consequences", such as "Jumping Jacks", "Bend Over and Spread", "Thumb in Bum", "Spanky Spank", "Spread Kitty", "BJ Dildo", "Plug and Play", and "Free Pass".

Two very burly fellows appeared on either side of me. Each took an arm, picked me up, and carried me, legs kicking, to the wheel.

"You... you can't do this!" I cried.

The host, Alex, theatrically unfolded with a flurry the many page contract I signed with my big fat signature at the bottom.

"Let's see now... paragraph 53, subsection 12a, 'Contestant agrees to spin and undertake any of the named consequences, and consents irrevocably to being physically forced to do so if needed.' Seems pretty cut and dry to me. How about you, audience?"

A big cheer went up as I was placed in front of the wheel, totally butt naked. There was always a chance at "Free Pass". I spun the wheel and it went round and round, click, click, click, click. It was slowing and slowing, it was going to rest on Free Pass! I couldn't believe my luck! It pressed against the click retainer and strained it, but it was going to hold! Then... Click... it stopped on "Spanky Spank"!  Oh no!

"Congratulations, Julie! You're our first ever contestant to dial "Spanky Spank"! Announcer, tell us about Spanky Spank."

"Sure thing, Alex" the announcer voice boomed out. "The contestant will be placed across the knee of a member of the opposite sex and spanked on the bare butt for a full five minutes!"

"No! No!" I cried out. This was a nightmare. I turned to run, but the two burly security guards took me by my arms and lifted me again as I kicked and struggled.

"Julie doesn't seem to like her Consequence!" said Alex to the audience who cheered and laughed like hyenas.

A man came on stage holding a wooden chair and walked to the center. He was a male model type. Smiling white teeth, tall, dark, handsome, and built. My pussy may have gushed just a little at the sight of him he was so good looking.

"What girl can dislike going across our designated female spanker, actor and model, Dan Montgomery's knee?"

A cheer rose from the crowd and Dan gave a little wave.

He placed the chair, sat on it, and theatrically started rolling up the sleeve of his right arm as the guards carried me to him.

"No... no, please.... no...."

"Come on, Julie!" said Alex, "you may not be able to sit for a week after Dan is done with you, but what girl wouldn't relish a trip over Dan Montgomery's knee? Let's give her a hand by way of encouragement!"

The audience began clapping and whooping as the two big guards set me down on my feet five feet away from the seated Dan. He shot me a smile, and beckoned me over with a crooked finger of his bared arm. It was so muscular... he then pointed at his lap, all the moves exaggerated for the stage.

I walked towards him as if in a trance. I saw his eyes roaming up and down my body. I got within grabbing distance of him. He reached out his hand, and gently took my arm, guiding me towards his broad lap.

Under his breath he spoke only to me, "Come on, Julie, it'll be just for show. There's a $10K bonus for being a good sport about it."

This was so freaking embarrassing. But $10K was $10K. It was no million bucks, but I could desperately use the money. Besides, it didn't look like they'd let me get away without fulfilling my contract anyways. I may as well make the best of it.

I shot a smile at the audience, flipped my hair, and said, "Do you worst, Dan!" If I was going to get eliminated from the game like this, at least I'd make it on my own terms.

"That's the attitude, Julie!" said Alex as I draped myself over Dan's knee.

Instantly there were three portable steady-cams converging on us. One had the ass view, another the face view, and a third the tittie view.

"Look up at the audience as you take your licks, Julie!" Alex said. "It's in your contract!"

I put on the best smile I could under the circumstances and turned my head to look up at them. The lights were bright, but I could still see their surging mass, wildly applauding, and I could certainly hear them. Embedded in the foot of the stage were several TV monitors showing all the angles and the TV feed for Dan's benefit. I could see them as well. He adjusted me up and over, maximizing the embarrassment factor. My feet were off the ground, my head almost on it, my tits dangled, and my pussy and asshole could be seen from behind. There was a giant jumbo type screen above the stage which showed the audience the same closeup views the folks at home were getting. I would never live this down. My tears started flowing before even the first spank. All my friends, my colleagues, my former boyfriends, all the guys I've ever rejected, all the bitchy and cunty women I've ever known, my family. My Mom and Dad. Grandma and Grandad. They were all seeing me like this!

"Come on, Dan. Give her something to really cry about!"

On the monitors I could see Dan open his right palm, spit on it, and then rub it all over my ass! Oh! So gross! He lifted his hand high, and then paused theatrically with it in the air.

"Ready, Julie?" He asked me, his hand poised high.

"This is just for show, right?" I asked him soto voce through gritted teeth without moving my lips.

"Absolutely," he replied in kind. "And I'll make it a good show."

He brought his hand down with a prodigious whack low down across both my bare cheeks, arcing upwards.  I gasped and my head shot straight up, my mouth open and my eyes wide. I couldn't process this for a second. It was no "show". That was a real spank! It was fucking hard! There was a fucking handprint across my two cheeks. And the spank had sent a powerful jolt right up through my pussy and asshole too which added to my shock.

The audience laughed hilariously at my reaction. The main feed showed a slow-mo replay of his hand hitting me and my cheeks wobbling in response. They then cut to my wide-eyed, silent scream.

"Hey!" I said, no longer whispering. "It was supposed to be just for show!"

"It's all for the show, Julie!" Alex said as Dan grinned down at my reddened ass cheeks.

Then my spanking started in earnest. Spank after spank after spank. none of them light! The main feed had a five minute countdown timer on it. I could not get through five minutes of this!

Dan payed particular attention to those low, upwards going smacks across both cheeks which sent almost electrical jolts into my pussy and bumhole. I started frantically kicking my kegs. I couldn't help it! Dan held me easily in place as the rear camera zoomed in on my wriggling pussy and asshole.

After a bit, Dan moved me to straddle his leg! My legs spread and they stayed that way as he continued my spanking.

"Don't worry, Dan," said Alex, "the dry cleaning's on us. I think little Julie may be enjoying her spanking!"

Oh Gawd! Dan paused my spanking, reached down, and with both hands spread my cheeks, my asshole, and my pussy lips, revealing my glistening wetness to everybody!

Dan reached his left hand down and scooped up my juices, rubbing my needy pussy at the same time. I couldn't help but moan, which the microphones picked up and amplified.

Dan then took a hold of my hair in his right hand, bending my neck and pulling my face up.

With his left hand he brought my own wetness up to my face and smeared me with my own juices.

"That's sure rubbing her face in it, Dan!" said Alex.

Dan then went back to my spanking, keeping my legs straddling his thigh and punishing all the more intimate, previously inaccessible, inside spaces.

Each smack echoed in the wildly screaming studio, and the tears flowed freely. I had never been spanked before, not even as a child, and the combination of pain and shame was overwhelming. The other contestants glanced at me with a mix of pity and relief that it wasn’t them.

Finally, it was over. Dan helped me up, saying "atta girl" so only I could hear. The tears flowed, giving way to wracking sobs. I felt utterly defeated, humiliated beyond words.

"And what's a good spanking without some good old-fashioned corner time!" said Alex, as the Vanna-wannabe rolled out a bare drywall corner, about four feet per side, and then locked the wheels. Dan took me to the corner, pushed my nose into it, and made me cross my hands behind my back.

"Let's hear a round of applause for Julie, ladies and gentleman!"

I received a rousing round of applause.

"And how 'bout for Dan also?"

Dan too received his round of applause as he took a bow.

The game continued, but I was barely aware of it. I  just wanted it to be over. The dweeby male contestant, played quick, smart and cautious, and in the end, he won the million dollars. I wondered if he had a girlfriend?

I went home with a spectacularly sore ass, zero dignity, but at least I had ten grand in my pocket, enough to set up a, sigh, OnlyFans.

Fiction: Abuser Abused (MFF/M)

Many of you male sub spankos have a certain fascination with being spanked over Daddy's knee. My husband did, and we arranged for that to happen not so long ago.

I offer you an AI-assisted story along those lines...

Abuser Abused

Part 1

I never thought I'd see the day when my dad, Steve Wilson, would spank a grown man. But here I was, watching as Dad was giving David Smith, our neighbour, a good dose of his own medicine. My name is Emily. I've just turned twenty and live with my single Dad.

Julie, David's wife, had come to us in tears, telling us about the increasingly bad verbal abuse she had been enduring for months. But this time, things had escalated. David had slapped her across her clothed bottom in anger, a humiliating and infuriating act.

I remember the look on my dad's face when Julie told us about it. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. He was furious. As a single dad raising me, he had always been protective of women and staunchly against any form of abuse. I knew that David was in for it.

"I'll give him a dose of his own medicine," my dad had said, his voice cold and determined. "He'll never lay a hand on you again, Julie."

We went back to Julie's place. For some reason, Dad wanted me tagging along.  That was fine by me. I didn't know exactly what Dad intended, but whatever it was, I was up for it.

And so, we found ourselves in Julie and David's living room. David was sitting on the couch, looking pale and uneasy. When we came in the door, he knew he was in trouble, but I don't think he could have anticipated just how much trouble he was in.

"David," my dad said, his voice cold and hard, "you have been treating Julie horribly recently. And now, you've crossed a line. You've put your hands on her, and that's something I won't stand for."

David's face turned red, and he stood up, his fists clenched. "You can't tell me what to do," he spat. "This is none of your business!"

My dad took a step forward, towering over David. "It is my business when a man is hurting a woman," he growled. "And I'm going to make sure you learn your lesson."

David tried to back away, but my dad grabbed him by the arm, pulling him close. "You're going to get a dose of your own medicine. A double-dose, in fact. You're getting a good, hard, spanking," my dad said, his voice low and threatening. "And you're going to promise to never lay a hand on Julie again."

Wow! I knew Dad was serious but didn't think he would actually go there. This would be good.

David's face turned even redder, and he began to struggle. But my dad was too strong. He easily overpowered David, pulling him over his knee.

"No!" David screamed, his legs flailing. "You can't do this to me! I'm a grown man!"

My dad is a very large and very strong man. He's always been exceptionally gentle with me, but I've seen his angry side when anybody ever messed with me. Julie's husband is a slight man, slightly pudgy and weak-looking. Really infuriating that a wimp like him would dare to assault his wife.

My dad didn't say anything in response to David's protests. In fact, worse than that (for him), he just pulled down David's pants and underwear, exposing his bare bottom. I winced, feeling a pang of sympathy for David, even though I knew he deserved this. I could only imagine the humiliation, being treated like this by a stronger man in front of his wife and me. Honestly though, it was pretty hilarious seeing David's bare ass wriggling over my dad's knee, his bare legs kicking his pants and undies down towards his ankles.

The first smack echoed through the room, and David let out a loud yelp. His legs continued to flail, but my dad held him firmly in place, delivering a series of hard, stinging smacks to his bare bottom.

My dad's hand is huge compared to David's ass, and left literal red hand prints – fingers and everything – across his ass cheeks.

I glanced over at Julie, who was watching the scene with a mixture of relief and satisfaction. I could see the tears drying in her eyes, and I knew that this was a turning point for her. She had found someone who was willing to stand up for her, to put an end to the worsening abuse once and for all.

As my dad continued to spank David, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. My dad was a hero, a defender of the weak and the abused. And in that moment, I was incredibly proud of him. David was truly getting what's for.

As dad kept spanking, the handprints merged into a tapestry of red, then crimson. I've never seen or even imagined an ass could turn such a colour. That rotten abuser was absolutely frantic from his spanking. Justice served as he kicked and screamed as my dad painted that back porch crimson and blue!

David's cries turned to sobs, and my dad paused, rubbing his bare, red bottom. It was like he was treating him like a chick undergoing some sort of BDSM sort of spanking you hear about, 20 Shades and everything. He gave that ass a squeeze and even dropped his hand between his legs giving his balls a shake and squish.

"You're going to promise to never hurt Julie again," my dad said firmly, squeezing his balls mercilessly.

David nodded, his sobs turning to whimpers. "I promise," he gasped, in a high-pitched voice. "I promise I'll never hurt Julie again."

"Let's make sure of that," Dad said.

"Noooo! Please!" David begged to no avail as the squeeze intensified.

My dad released his balls and continued to spank him, making him repeat his promise over and over again. David's cries turned to pleas, and he continued to beg my dad. But my dad was relentless.

"Please! Steve! Please! Stop!"

"You'll call me 'Daddy' from now on," my dad said, his voice cold and hard, smacking his ass even harder. "You'll show me the respect I deserve, and you'll remember this lesson for the rest of your life."

David nodded, his face a mess of tears and snot. "Yes, Daddy!" he gasped. "Yes, Daddy, I'll remember!"

My dad continued to spank him, pausing every now and then to rub his little bare, red bottom and his cock and balls. He was fully emasculating David, treating him like a little chick who needed to be taught a lesson.

Dad ended with a vicious flurry of spanks that had David jumping all over Dad's lap. Finally, when David was reduced to a blubbering mess, my dad stopped the spanking. "You're going to stand in the corner and think about what you've done," he said firmly. "And you're not going to move until I say so."

David nodded, his face red and swollen from crying. My dad pulled him up off his knee and led him to the corner.

David stooped to try to raise his pants. Dad stepped on them and said, "The pants stay down. Hands on your head," he said roughly, pulling David's hands to his head and slapping his ass. What a little bitch.

As David stood in the corner, his bare bottom on display, his hands on his head, sobbing like a baby, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He had been put in his place, and he had learned his lesson. He would never hurt Julie again.

After a few minutes of increasingly loud crying, I guess it all got too much for him. David began to plead with my dad. "Please, Daddy," he begged, his voice hoarse from crying. "Can I pull my pants up now?"

My dad shook his head. "Hell no. You're staying there for at least the next hour and you think about what you've done. And if you move an inch I'll be taking off my belt."

David only whimpered in reply.

Julie served tea with sandwiches as David was kept in his corner, his red buns blazing. I couldn't believe my dad had turned his ass so red! A naughty spanked little red-bottomed boy crying in his corner.

After tea, David's hour was up by a few minutes, my dad released him from his corner.

"All right, David, you can come out of the corner and pull up your pants, but not until after you apologize to Julie and Emily," he said firmly. "You're going to turn around, and you're going to apologize to them. You keep those pants down and your hands firmly on your head."

Oh my God. I couldn't believe this. How totally humiliating for him!

David nodded, tears streaming down his face. He turned around, his small cock and balls on full display. "I'm sorry, Julie," he whispered. "I'm sorry for everything I've done to you."

Julie nodded, her eyes still filled with tears. "Thank you, David," she said softly. "I forgive you."

David turned to me, his face red with shame. "I'm sorry, Emily," he whispered. "I'm sorry for being such a terrible person."

It was all I could do to keep from laughing as he stood there, all bare, shaking like a leaf. His penis was so small! I hoped for Julie's sake he's a "grower".

I nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. "It's okay, David," I said softly. "Just make sure you learn from this."

"Before pulling your pants up, ask me for permission again," my dad said.

"Please, Daddy. Please may I pull up my pants now?"

"Why are your pants down right now?" my dad asked.

"Because I was abusive towards Julie."

"That's right. Now ask again."

"Please, Daddy. Please may I pull up my pants now?"

"You may."

David nodded, his face still red and swollen from crying, and pulled his pants back up to cover his embarrassing little "manhood".

As we left Julie and David's house, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. My dad had stood up for a woman in need, and he had made sure that justice was served. And even though the scene had been humiliating and emasculating for David, I knew that it was necessary. He had learned his lesson, and he would never hurt Julie again.

As we walked back to our house, my dad put his arm around me, pulling me close. "You know, Emily," he said softly, "I'm proud of you for standing by me today. You're a strong, brave young woman, and I'm honored to be your dad."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "Thanks, Dad," I said softly. "I'm proud of you, too."

And in that moment, I knew that no matter what happened in the future, my dad and I would always be there for each other. We were a team, a family, and nothing could ever change that.

Part 2

Imagine my surprise next morning when I hear a knock on the door, I open it, and see a very red-faced David standing there with a mop and a bucket filled with cleaning supplies in hand.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as my dad walked up behind me with a smirk on his face.

"I... um... Julie said I needed to come over here once a week to clean until further notice."

My dad laughed aloud. "How very thoughtful of Julie! We were thinking of hiring a cleaning lady, weren't we, Em?"

"Looks like we won't need to now," I said, pretty delighted. We had been thinking about it, but money was tight, so I was resisting it. Most of the housework had fallen to me because of Dad's work and all the guy things that needed doing.  He had been talking about a cleaning lady as mainly a help for me given my schoolwork.

I chuckled as well. "You don't look too happy about it, David."

"No..." David said despondently and in a bit of a surly manner.

"No, Mistress!" my dad corrected him sternly. "Emily is mistress of this household and you will address her accordingly. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Dad prompted him.

"Yes, Sir."

"No, no, no, no," I said. "Didn't Daddy teach you last time how to address him?" I asked with a smirk.

David blushed three shades of red. "Yes, Daddy," he corrected himself as my dad let out a hearty belly laugh.

"And if you don't do a good job on your cleaning, what will Daddy do to you?" I asked mischievously.

"I 'dunno," said David, then looking at Dad, added, "Mistress."

"Oh, I think you do. Now tell us, very clearly, what will Daddy do to you if you don't do a good job with the cleaning?"

"S... s... spanking, Mistress."

"Oh yes! And after yesterday, you don't want that again, do you?"

"No, Mistress."

"Ok, get in here. I'll show you the ropes and supervise."

Before David could move, Dad reached out and held his chin in his hand, tilting it up to make him look into his eyes. "Emily's in charge. You do as you're told. If you disobey, or fuck up, or don't work hard enough, or show any attitude whatsoever, Emily will let me know, and then you'll get it from me, no questions asked. You got that, boy?"

Dad kept his face tilted up as tears formed in David's eyes. "Yes, Daddy!" he cried out.

"Good," Dad said, releasing him. "How's that ass this morning?"

"Still sore... Daddy."

"Ha ha! Good! Now show us."

"Huh...?"

"Show us. Turn around, drop 'em, bend over, and show us the damage."

"Please... Daddy..."

Dad reached for his belt and began unbuckling it.

David instantly turned, dropped his pants and undies, and bent wayyyy over, totally mooning us! Ha ha!

Dad looked pleased, buckling his belt back up again.

"Dusky red!" I said. "Still! Good job, Dad!" I high-fived Dad.

He stayed bent over, apparently afraid to do anything without Dad's say-so. He was so bent over that I could see his balls between his legs and his tight little asshole winking out at us.

"Stand up and pull your pants back up. I think Em's seen quite enough of that ass over the past couple of days."

David quickly stood and pulled his pants up and turned around, his face still red with embarrassment. I gestured for him to follow me into the house, and I set him to his cleaning duties. As he worked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that David was being held accountable for his actions. I made sure to keep a close eye on him and encourage him to work harder whenever he slacked off.

As the day wore on, David began to slack off more and more. His attitude grew increasingly surly, and I could tell he was starting to get fed up with the cleaning. I tried to be patient with him, but my patience was wearing thin.

"David, you need to pick up the pace," I scolded him. "You still have a lot of work to do, and you're not going to get it done today."

David glared at me and muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"I said, 'I'm doing the best I can,'" David said through gritted teeth.

"Well, it's not good enough," I snapped back. "If you don't start working harder, I'm going to have to tell Dad."

David rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever," he said dismissively. I'd been too nice. Too patient. I didn't think he thought I was serious.

I shook my head in frustration and decided to call my dad. I told him about David's attitude and lack of effort, and he was not pleased.

When my dad arrived, he took one look at David's half-hearted effort and shook his head. "I thought I made myself clear about the consequences of not doing a good job," he said sternly.

David looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll do better, I promise." Oh boy, his attitude was changing now!

"Sorry isn't good enough," my dad said, pulling his belt off. "You need to be punished for your attitude and lack of effort."

David began to panic. "Please, Daddy, don't spank me again. Not with the belt! I'll do better, I swear!"

My dad glared at him. "You had your chance, and you blew it. Now, drop 'em and bend over the table."

David hesitated for a moment, but then complied, tears streaming down his face. My dad proceeded to give him a hard, bare-bottomed whipping with his belt, leaving David's ass a deep shade of red once again with raised rectangular welts wrapping around towards his hip. It was not a short whipping. He really caught it from Dad!

David was much more respectful towards me after that, but I nevertheless decided to no longer shirk on his discipline as I had been doing before. Over the next few weeks, I continued to supervise David's cleaning duties, and each time he slacked off or showed any attitude, my dad was there to enforce the consequences. As the weeks went by and he became more and more submissive, I couldn't resist teasing him about it. "David, you're starting to act more and more like a submissive little girl every day," I said with a smirk.

David blushed and looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mistress," he muttered.

"Sure you don't," I said, grinning. "But you know what? I think we should dress you as a maid. You'd make a great little maid. What do you think, Dad?"

My dad, overhearing, chuckled. "I think that's a fantastic idea. What do you say, David? Would you like to be our little maid?"

David looked horrified. "No, please, Daddy, I don't want to be a maid," he pleaded.

My dad raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's too bad, because if Em wants to dress you as our maid, you'll dress as our God-damned maid."

Over the next few weeks, I began the process of transforming David. I started with makeup, carefully applying foundation, blush, lipstick, mascara, and eyeliner to enhance his features. Ever-present was the threat of my father's belt to keep him in line. I also experimented with hairstyles, trying out different wigs and hair extensions and hair styles to create the perfect look.

Next, I moved on to lingerie. Oh, he didn't like that one bit, and Dad's belt had to come out again. After we had reached agreement in this way, I began dressing David in frilly bras and panties under his clothes. At first, I dressed him myself as soon as he arrived. That is, until he started developing little stiffies when I pulled his panties on and decided Julie ought to tend to his dressing up from then on before he left home. (And, no, he wasn't much of a "grower" either, tee hee!)

I then introduced him to high heels, teaching him how to walk and move gracefully in them.

As David's transformation progressed, I began to dress him in more feminine clothing, including skirts, dresses, and blouses. I also started to experiment with breast forms, using silicone inserts to create the illusion of big DD breasts. They were a real sight to behold. They were large, firm, and perfectly shaped, and they jiggled enticingly whenever he walked. My dad and I couldn't help but admire them, and we often joked about how much fun it would be to play with them.

The dressing up and the big breasts seemed to be very helpful in setting David's attitude, and with that, combined with a frequent dose of dad's hard hand to his soft behind, he soon became the most efficient and obedient maid we could have hoped for.

At a certain point, Dad decided that I should participate in our little maid's discipline as well, and gave me full spanking privileges.

I didn't need to use my newfound powers much, as he had learned pretty well to obey by then, but there were still times when his attitude would slip and he would need a reminder of his place.

One such occasion occurred when David was cleaning the living room. He was carelessly dusting around some antiques and when I scolded him for it he gave me some very disrespectful attitude. I decided that it was time for him to be punished.

"David, come here," I said sternly, gesturing for him to come to me.

David looked up at me, his eyes suddenly wide with fear. "I'm sorry, Mistress. I didn't mean it!" he said realizing what he had done and what was therefore now in store for him.

I silenced him with a stern look. "No more arguments. It's time for your punishment."

I pulled out a chair and sat down, gesturing for him to come to me. David hesitated for a moment, but then complied, teetering over to me on his high heels, tears streaming down his face already, his makeup beginning to run. He was hoping he was beyond spankings by now. Apparently not.

I took him across my lap, his big breasts dangling over the far side of my knees. I reached for his skirt and began to raise it, exposing his frilly panties. I then reached for his panties and began to lower them, revealing his bare bottom.

David began to squirm and protest, but I ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. I reached for my hairbrush, which I had left nearby for just such an occasion, and began to spank him with it.

The first few swats were hard, and David cried out in pain. But I didn't let up, determined to teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget. I spanked him hard and fast, covering his entire bottom with welts and bruises. I wanted Dad to be proud of his little girl, after all. 

David began to cry in earnest, his big breasts bouncing with each swat. I could feel his body shaking with sobs as I continued to punish him.

As I continued to spank David, I could hear my dad approaching from the other room. He sauntered over, a sly grin on his face, and leaned against the wall, watching with interest.

"Looks like someone's been naughty," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

David's face turned bright red, and he tried to cover his exposed bottom with his hands. "Please, Daddy, don't watch," he pleaded.

My dad chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're going to learn a lesson today, little girl."

I continued to spank David, ignoring my dad's presence. But I could feel his eyes on me, watching my every move.

"Looks like you're doing a good job there, Emily," he said, nodding approvingly. "Keep it up."

David's sobs grew louder, and he began to plead with me. "Please, Mistress, I'm sorry," he cried. "I'll be good, I promise."

My dad laughed. "Too late for that, girl," he said, shaking his head. "If I know my Emmy, you've earned this punishment, and you're going to take it like a good little maid."

David's face crumpled, and he began to cry in earnest. I could feel his body shaking with sobs as I continued to spank him.

My dad leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on David's exposed bottom. "Looks like you're doing a good job, Emily," he said again, his voice low and approving. "Just a few more swats, and I think she'll get the message."

I nodded, my arm aching from the effort. But I was determined to see this punishment through to the end.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I stopped, my arm aching and my heart happy. David was a mess, his bottom bright red and his face streaked with tears and running makeup.

My dad nodded approvingly. "Well done, Emily," he said, clapping me on the back. "I think our little maid has learned her lesson."

David nodded, his eyes still filled with tears. "I'm sorry," he said through his sobs. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I said softly, pulling him close. "You're going to be okay. But you need to remember your place and show me the respect I deserve."

David nodded, his eyes still filled with tears. "I will, Mistress," he promised. "I'll be better, I swear."

And so, with David's punishment complete, we settled back into our routine, our little maid once again obedient and submissive. I didn't let him clean up his makeup, and that day sent him back home to Julie with his mascara streaked down his face. She would know the reason why.

The memory of that punishment lingered with David. I think that before that spanking he didn't really respect my ability to discipline him, but I proved him very wrong. That hairbrush spanking stayed as a powerful reminder of the consequences of disobedience and the importance of understanding one's place.

Part 3

At one point Julie, Dad and I decided to host a party for the entire neighborhood.

"We're going to need a little help with this one," I said, looking at David. "We're going to need you to serve as our little maid for the party. And I have just the outfit for you."

David did not seem too happy. "Oh, please no, Mistress, please!" he said, his eyes beginning to fill with tears, but he knew better than to disobey us.

On the day of the party, I led David to my room and pulled out a short, frilly French maid's uniform. David's eyes widened in surprise.

I helped him into the outfit. First thing I did was strip him to nude while Dad looked on. I used masking tape to tuck his cock and balls hard against his leg. That would be a real bitch to get off. Ha ha! For giggles, I used black and red magic markers to draw a vagina on his totally shaved smooth abdomen (part of his transformation). Dad loved that one! I then put him into his frilly white lingerie with the breast forms. Next I put him into a waist cincher, tightening it hard! I then adjusted the skirt and blouse until everything was just right. Next came the thigh highs and the stiletto heels. Finally. I added a frilly white apron and a lace headband, completing the look.

David looked adorable, his low ass cheeks poking out the bottom of his dress, his frilly white panties on view as he bent over. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, especially from behind. I even made him pose for a couple of saucy pics!

"We're going to have a little sign for you," I said, pulling out a piece of poster board. "It's going to say that you're being punished for spousal abuse and that anyone is welcome to give your ass a spank or a pinch."

David blushed bright red, but he didn't argue. He knew better than to question my decisions. I posted the sign on the wall. Any confusion about the dolled up "man" serving the guests drinks was quickly cleared up as they saw the sign.

The party was a huge success, with everyone enjoying the food, drinks, and conversation. But the real star of the show was David, who served as our little maid with grace and poise.

As David was serving a tray of drinks to two couples standing talking to one another, one of the men asked, "Spousal abuse, eh? What did you do, exactly?"

I observed all this from a distance.

David gulped and said "I was verbally abusive to my wife and then I, um, smacked her bottom angrily, but just once!"

"Oh, just once, eh?" the man said as he took the drinks tray from him, handed it to his wife, then turned David  around, bent him over so his skirt rode up high showing off his cheeky white panties, and gave him one prodigious whack to his essentially bare bottom. David was propelled forward from the force of the blow and immediately grasped his punished ass cheek and danced, grimacing in pain.

"My turn," said his wife, handing off the tray to her friend and doing the same. All four took their turns, and that started a real trend.

As the night wore on, David continued to serve as our little maid, his bottom bright red from the attention it was receiving. But there were several partygoers, both male and female, who felt strongly about spousal abuse and decided to take matters into their own hands.

"David, come here, you little shit," one of the women said, gesturing for him to come to her. "I think you need a real spanking."

David hesitated for a moment, but then complied, his eyes wide with fear. The woman took him across her lap, his skirt flipping up by itself, her hand coming down hard on his bare little cheeks, his panties offering no protection whatsoever.

David cried out in pain, his body shaking with sobs. But the woman didn't let up, determined to teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget. She spanked him hard and fast, covering his entire bottom.

Later on, emboldened by a few drinks, one of the men at the party approached David with a determined look on his face. "David, come here," he said sternly. The man took him across his lap. He then reached for his panties and took them first down then all the way off his protesting, kicking little feet. The man tossed the panties, landing them high up on the chandelier. Then his hand started coming down hard on David's bare bottom.

"Can't keep your hands to yourself, eh?" he said as he punished. "Well now you know what it feels like."

When he was finished, he pushed David off his lap. David landed in a heap on his ass with legs splayed. Instantly everyone pointed and laughed. His tuck job and painted on vagina was completely on display!

David stood up quickly, tugging his micro dress down to the extent he could.

"My panties..." he begged, seeing them high on the chandelier, beyond his reach. He tried jumping for them, but that only prompted more laughs as each time he did he showed off his bright red ass and painted on vagina to all and sundry.

David had to serve fesses-nues (pantyless) for the remainder of the party. His high up dangling panties decorating the chandelier to add to his shame.

At a certain point, one of the ladies even went so far as to roll his dress up at the waistband, shortening it considerably so his bare red ass was basically out for all to see for the duration of the party.

I can tell you, it didn't get any less slapped and pinched for all that!

The irony of an abusive husband who had smacked his wife's bottom, walking around with the worst smacked bottom on display was lost on nobody.

Epilogue

Eventually David's sentence of being our unpaid housemaid came to an end. But we really still needed a maid, so we cut a deal with Julie and got him for a pretty decent price.

And as you can well imagine, he never, ever spoke an abusive word or laid a hand on Julie, ever again. Backed up by the ever-present threat of my dad's discipline, the same could not be said the other way around...