The sun was just coming up, but the household was busy-busy, centered around Becky, age 38, who had been dressing as a woman for the last two years. His wife, Georgia, age 37, was the first to tend to him, applying makeup, her eyes critical as she ensured he looked as fuckable as possible.

The bathroom smelled of expensive cosmetics and Georgia’s morning coffee. Becky sat on the edge of the bathtub, his legs crossed delicately, his beach waves blonde hair flowing over his shoulders like a waterfall. Georgia stepped back, her short blonde hair catching the light as she admired her handiwork.

“You look almost as hot as that chick that won the academy award last year, but with bigger tits and a better ass,” Georgia said, her tone a mix of encouragement and mockery.

Becky said, "I've come a long way, Georgia. I have my new tits now, and they are spectacular, and thanks to the hormones and the daily yoga, my ass now looks amaaazing! But now, to round it all off, I need to learn to walk and talk like a pretty woman. If I can do that, I'll be right there. I'll be sex on a stick! I think I need a sexy walking coach and a sexy voice coach. I need to walk like a hot bitch and sound like one. Then I'll be the bomb!"

Georgia’s patience was sometimes thin. Her love for Becky was a complex mix of affection and sexual attraction that had never waned from day one. But she couldn't allow him to go flying off like this. He would have to be guided...by her. He would have to be bossed all along the way...by her. Nothing could be achieved by him without that.

Georgia knew it was her duty to keep Becky in line, to boss him around for his own good. To lead him in the right direction and make choices for him. He had become a bimbo! He couldn't make choices for himself! She knew it was time for her to step up and get him walking and talking like the hottest bitch in town!

As all of that was going through her mind, she adjusted the strap of Becky’s silk dress, her fingers brushing against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

Then Georgia smacked him, maybe a little too hard on his right shoulder.

“Stop fidgeting, Becky. You’re a mess,” she snapped, her voice sharp but not entirely unkind. Becky's shoulder grew red, evidence of the smack that Georgia had delivered a little too enthusiastically.  Becky froze and he teared up.

He said with a little cry in his voice, "That hurt, Georgia. Usually your smacks are only a reminder that I should obey, but that one really hurt!" 

Georgia shut him down with, "You know better than to sass me and argue with me, Becky. I won't have it." Becky grew silent, rubbing the mark and pouting.

Then Georgia said, "I'm sorry, baby, but you bring it on yourself. You know how I get when you get sassy. No more sassy, no more smacks, okay, sweetie?"

“Okay, Georgia, I'm sorry. I was disrespectful," Becky admitted.

Georgia's voice grew soft, and she whispered, "We'll see about getting you the coaching you need. Ashlee and I can help with that, too, okay, baby?" Becky buttoned up, sitting before Georgia and trying to be good. He didn't want to risk another smack from his pretty wife.

Then  the sound of pounding footsteps echoed down the stairs, and 18-year-old Ashlee burst into their bedroom, her volleyball bag slung over her shoulder. At eighteen, she was the very image of confidence, her lean, athletic build showcased in tight leggings and a sports bra. Her golden tan skin glowed, and her green eyes sparkled as she took in Becky’s appearance.

“Are you trying to give the world a hard-on, Dad?” she laughed. You look like a fucking snack, but I know there's still a man somewhere in there. I've seen the way you look at me. Jeezus, Dad! I'm your daughter! Eighteen years old! You know you want to fuck me, don’t you? But you can’t because I’m your daughter! And because ick! Ick! Besides, I’m mostly a lesbian, so you’re out of luck, sissy.”

After some silence, Becky whispered, “You’re so mean, Ashlee. Do you think I don't have feelings?”

Ashlee rolled her eyes, her long, flowing hair swaying as she turned to Georgia.

“Mom, do you ever get tired of his whining?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

Georgia smirked, and said, "His sassy little mouth already got him a smack this morning, Ashlee. Becky, do you want your daughter to correct you for whining?  You owe her respect just as you do me. What would that be like for you?"

"Please, no, Georgia! I'll be good. I'm sorry Ashlee," Becky said with his head bowed.

Brett, Becky’s sister, age 40, strolled into the kitchen moments later, her sleek, business suit hugging her every curve. Her layered micro bob hairstyle framed her striking features, and her piercing eyes immediately locked onto Becky. 

“Lookin' like a hot bitch, I see, Becky. Be careful, sweetie pie, you might make me jealous!” she said, her tone showing some unusual affection.

Becky felt grateful for that. Brett’s words were always a threat, but he had grown accustomed to them. He knew she loved him in her own way, but he always hoped for a little less severity.

“Good morning, Brett,” Becky replied, his voice soft but steady.

Brett turned to Georgia, her eyes softening as she leaned against the counter.

“Morning, gorgeous. Ready for another day of dealing with this putz of a man? He's pretty, but he's pathetic!” she intoned. "He's been that way since we were in college. He would follow me around like he had a crush on me. I'd chase him away or kick his ass and send him running back to his dorm room," Brett teased.  

Georgia smiled at that information and said, "But I bet he was cute in his early twenties when he got his ass kicked by a girl not much older than he was," she said as she giggled at the picture that Brett had drawn in her mind.

The day unfolded, each member of the family playing their part. Becky, the crossdresser, the sissy, the putz. Georgia, the beautiful bossy wife and the patient lover who coaxed her husband through the steps each time they made love. Ashlee, the saucy, mouthy daughter and mostly lesbian volleyball player. Brett, the domineering sister, and the not-so-secret lover of Georgia. Each interaction of these characters was a mix of love, humiliation, and encouragement.

As Becky descended the stairs, his heels clicking against the hardwood, Ashlee grabbed his arm, her grip firm.

“Come on, Dad. Let’s get you to the car. You’re slowing us down,” she said, her tone bossy but not unkind.

Becky followed obediently, his heart swelling with love for his daughter, even as he knew she saw him as nothing more than a pathetic sissy.

In the car, Brett took the driver’s seat, her fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. Georgia sat in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on Becky in the rearview mirror.

“You look good today, Becky,” she said, her voice filled with authority. “But one thing, mister. Do NOT embarrass us.”

Becky nodded, his hands clasping together in his lap. “I’ll try, Georgia,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Ashlee turned to Becky, her green eyes sparkling. “Dad, you’re such a pushover. If I were you, I’d stand up to your bitchy wife and sister. And I'm just a girl,” she teased, her voice dripping with disdain. Becky laughed, a soft, nervous sound.

“Easy for you to say, Ashlee. You’re not the one in heels and a short dress,” he replied, his tone playful but tinged with insecurity.

Brett glanced at him in the rearview mirror, and said, “Don’t worry, Becky. You’re perfect just the way you are—a perfect weak girl with little mind of her own,” she said, her voice laced with mockery. Becky’s cheeks flushed, but he said nothing, knowing any response would only invite more teasing...or another smack.

At his law office office, Becky stepped out of the car, his heels clicking against the pavement. Georgia adjusted his dress, her hands possessive as she ensured he looked flawless.

“Remember, Becky. You’re my project. When you step out in the world, everything you say and do is a reflection on me. Don’t disappoint me or there will be consequences that I am sure you don't want to face,” she said, in a tone that indicated that every word she said was true. Becky nodded, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I won’t, Georgia,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

As he walked into the building, he felt the eyes of the other lawyers on him, about 30% male and 70% female.

The day was just beginning, and already Becky knew it would be a long one. But he also knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, he had Georgia, Brett, and Ashlee by his side—three women who loved him, and though they mocked him daily, they also pushed him to be the best version of himself, the best sissy dad, the best sissy brother, the best sissy husband, and the best sissy attorney.

And as he stepped into the elevator, his heart swelling with a mix of anxiety and gratitude, Becky couldn’t help but smile. Because despite everything, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be...wearing heels, a pretty thong, and a little skirt that was waaay too short!

The next day, the air in the living room was thick with anticipation as Ashlee and Cindy, Ashlee's BFF, stood side by side, their eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and authority. Becky, clad in a silk robe that Georgia had insisted he wear, fidgeted nervously, his delicate hands clutching the edges of the fabric. The robe was a gift from Georgia and it clung to his slim frame like a second skin. 

"Alright, Dad," Ashlee began, her voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. "Time to get started. You know the drill. Strip down, and let’s see what we’re working with."

Becky’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, his wide eyes darting between his daughter and Cindy. He knew what was coming, but the thought of being completely exposed in front of the two young women still sent a shiver down his spine. Slowly, he untied the belt of the robe, letting it slide off his shoulders and pool at his feet. He stood there, naked and vulnerable, his small, well-groomed cock resting against his thigh, a source of both pride and insecurity.

Cindy stepped forward, her gaze appraising. "Not bad, Becky. But we’re here to make you perfect. And that starts with the right attitude."

She picked up the butt-plug Georgia had provided, its size undeniably intimidating. "Bend over the couch, Becky. Let’s get this party started."

Becky’s breath hitched as he obeyed the girl, his slender body bending gracefully over the back of the couch.  He closed his eyes, steeling himself for what was to come.

Ashlee knelt behind him, her athletic frame exuding confidence. "Relax, Dad. You're here with your daughter and her best friend. This should be easy for you because we're young and we're hot! And This is for your own good, Dad. You want to walk like a whore, right? Well, this is how we’re gonna make it happen."

"Take a deep breath, Becky," Cindy said as she lined up the butt-plug with Becky’s little asshole, her touch firm but gentle.

He did as he was told, his chest rising and falling with his nervousness. With a slow, deliberate push, Cindy inserted the plug, its size stretching him open. Becky let out a soft gasp, his body tensing as the foreign object filled him. The sensation was overwhelming—a mix of discomfort and arousal that left him trembling. Right there in the middle of the house, stark naked with a butt-plug in his ass as his daughter and her best friend issued orders. How humiliating!

"Good boy, Dad," Ashlee cooed, her hand resting on Becky’s lower back. "Now, stand up and let’s see that walk. Let's see that Daddy ass move."

Becky straightened, his legs shaking slightly as he adjusted to the plug’s presence. The weight of it inside him made his ass sway with every step, the movement exaggerated and provocative. Ashlee handed him a pair of stilettos, their heels impossibly high.

Then Ashlee said, "Put these on. You need to learn to strut in heels like a proper whore."

He slipped his feet into the shoes, his balance precarious as he teetered on the heels. Ashlee and Cindy exchanged a smirk, clearly enjoying the show.

"Walk around the room, Becky. Show us what you’ve got," Cindy said.

Becky took a tentative step, his hips swaying more than he intended. The butt-plug shifted inside him, sending a jolt of sensation through his body. He bit his lip, trying to maintain his composure, but the combination of the heels and the plug made it impossible to walk without looking like he was trying to seduce everyone in the room.

"That’s it, Becky," Cindy encouraged, her tone mocking yet playful. "Work it. You’re supposed to look like you’re trying to give the world a hard-on!"

Ashlee stepped closer, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "You’re doing okay, Dad, but you need more swagger. Imagine you’re the hottest thing in town. Own it, bitch! If you don't get this right, your ass will pay."

Becky tried to channel the confidence Ashlee was demanding, but his nerves got the better of him. His steps became more exaggerated, his hips swinging wildly as he attempted to embody the persona they were pushing him toward. The butt-plug made his ass jiggle with every step, the movement undeniably exciting.

"Whoa, slow down, Becky," Cindy laughed. "You’re going to give yourself whiplash. Let’s try something else. Turn around and walk back to me."

Becky obeyed, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned clumsily, his heels clicking against the hardwood floor. As he walked back toward Cindy, he felt the plug shift again, the sensation both uncomfortable and exhilarating. His breath quickened, his body was responding despite his embarrassment.

Ashlee watched with a critical eye, her arms crossed. "You’re still too tentative, Becky. You're not trying hard enough. We're trying to help you and you're really not showing much gratitude. You know what Mom said about that!”

Ashlee walked over to the couch and sat down. She reached for her Brazilian hardwood paddle and fondled it. "Get your sweet ass over here and lay yourself across my lap." She removed her sweats and said, "I want to feel you against my thighs while that amaaazing ass gets paddled. You need to feel how hard this hardwood really is."

Becky pleaded, "But Ashlee, please, honey, I was being good. I don't deserve a spanking, especially from my young daughter!"

Ashlee responded with anger, "Don't sass me, Dad! You're not gonna get by with stuff just because Mom isn't here She told me to keep you in line and not put up with any of your whiny shit. Now get over here and take what you've got coming to you."

Becky knew that further resistance was futile. And he knew that his daughter was far stronger than he was, so he had better just shut up and obey her orders willingly. So he did. He walked slowly over to Ashlee and tearfully said, "Go easy on me, baby. I'm your Dad. I know it will hurt. But I also know it will make me feel good!"

Ashlee's eyes were blazing and she said, "Across my lap, fucker. I'm gonna light your ass up!"

Becky's daughter pulled him down across her strong, tanned thighs, with his cock slipping down between them. She had him. With her thighs gripping Becky's daddy cock, she brought the paddle down hard on his pretty ass. He howled, but he was too ashamed to really struggle. In fact, he struggled like he liked it. Then she brought the paddle down again and again and again. Becky was sobbing and pleading. He tried to speak, but he was crying so hard that he couldn't. And Ashlee continued to hammer away on his helpless ass.

Becky was getting the ass-whipping of his life and he could hear Cindy giggling her ass off! Finally, Ashlee ceased her ass-pounding of her dad, and Becky tumbled onto the floor with his ass on fire! "When you make my ass hurt, Ashlee, it just makes me want more. I need the discipline," he said. "That's why down deep I crave the paddlings."

Ashlee looked down at him and her voice became softer. "Come up here and sit on my lap, Dad." Becky immediately obeyed. His ass wanted no more of that paddle, but he needed reassurance that he was loved.

Ashlee held Becky and said, "I'm sorry I had to do that, Dad. It was for your own good. You weren't trying hard enough. You were disrespecting me. I wont have it. I love you, Dad, I always have, but I have to take care of you and make sure that you stay focused. Now you've had your first paddling from your daughter. And you know you wanted it and needed it. You thought I was going to be a pushover because I love you. But you were sooo wrong. We can continue now and there will be no more paddling if you try harder and behave yourself. Do you understand?"

Becky snuffled and fought back tears and said, "It kinda feels good when you spank me, baby. I understand, sweetheart. I'll be good. I double promise I'll be good. I'll willingly do anything to keep your love."

Then Becky closed his eyes, trying to visualize the scenario. He took a deep breath and started again, this time putting more effort into his movements. His hips swayed more naturally, his shoulders rolling back as he attempted to exude the confidence Ashlee was demanding. The butt-plug added an extra layer of provocation, his ass bouncing with every step. And his...