The next day, the air was thick with anticipation as Ashlee, Brett, and Georgia gathered in the living room, their eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and mischief. Becky, clad in a silk robe that barely concealed his ass, stood in the center of the room, his heart pounding in his chest. The transformation that had begun weeks ago was about to reach a new level, and the women in his life were determined to push him further into the world of femininity.

"Alright, Becky," Georgia began, her voice laced with authority. "Today’s the day we take your training up a notch. You’ve been doing well with the walking and the voice lessons, but we need to refine your mannerisms, your essence. Georgia’s arranged for you to work with Kim, an acting coach. She’s going to teach you how to embody your favorite actress’s charm and sex appeal by learning to mimic her every personal detail. Are you ready?"

Becky’s eyes widened, a mix of fear and curiosity flickering across his face. "I-I think so," he stammered, his voice trembling slightly. "But what does that entail? I mean, I’m already doing so much…"

Brett smirked, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, Becky, you’re just getting started, Sweetie. Kim’s not going to hold back. She’s got a reputation for being tough, especially with clients like you. But don’t worry, she’ll make you perfect. When she gets finished with you, you will be  a perfect hot bitch."

Georgia stepped forward, her expression firm but caring. "Kim’s the best, Becky. She’ll push you, but it’s for your own good. You want to be the best Becky you can be, don’t you?"

Becky nodded, though his nerves were palpable. "Of course, Georgia. I just—I don’t want to disappoint you all."

Ashlee rolled her eyes, her tone playful yet commanding. "You won’t disappoint us, Daddy. Just do what Kim says, and everything will be fine. And remember we love you. You don’t deserve it, but we love you. Now, strip off that robe. We need to get you ready."

With trembling hands, Becky untied the silk robe, letting it slide off his shoulders and pool at his feet. He stood naked, his small, well-groomed cock and slender frame on full display. The women exchanged knowing glances, their smiles a mix of pride and amusement.

"Good," Georgia said, handing him a pair of sheer panties and a lacy bra. "Put these on. Kim wants you to feel the part from the start."

Becky slipped into the lingerie, the delicate fabric hugging his body tightly. He couldn’t help but blush, the sensation of the lace against his skin both arousing and humiliating.

"Now, heels," Brett instructed, handing him a pair of sky-high stilettos. "You’re going to need to practice walking in these. Kim expects you to be graceful, not clumsy."

Becky took the shoes, his hands shaking as he sat down to put them on. The height of the heels was intimidating, but he forced himself to stand, teetering slightly as he tried to find his balance.

"Not bad," Ashlee said, her tone surprisingly encouraging. "But you need to move with confidence, Daddy. Imagine you’re walking down the red carpet. Head high, shoulders back, hips swaying more than just a little. What's the word....titillating, you need to be titillating, Dad."

Becky took a deep breath, trying to channel the image Ashlee had painted. He began to walk across the room, his steps tentative at first, but gradually becoming more assured. The women watched, offering corrections and praise in equal measure.

"That’s it," Georgia said, her voice soft but firm. "You’re getting the hang of it. Now, remember, Kim’s going to be stricter than we are. She’ll expect perfection."

As the morning wore on, Becky practiced his walk, his movements becoming more fluid and natural. The women’s encouragement helped boost his confidence, though he couldn’t shake the nervousness about what lay ahead with Kim.

Finally, the time came for Becky to leave for his first session with the acting coach. Georgia drove him to Kim’s studio, a sleek, modern building in the heart of the city. As they pulled up, Becky’s heart raced, his butt-plug in place, palms sweating despite the air conditioning in the car.

"You’ll be fine, Becky," Georgia assured him, placing a gentle hand on his knee. "Just remember, this is for your own good. Kim’s going to help you be the best hot bitch ever!"

Becky nodded, though his nerves were far from calmed. He stepped out of the car, his heels clicking against the pavement as he made his way to the studio entrance in his little short skirt. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The studio was spacious and brightly lit, with mirrors lining the walls and a large stage at the center. Kim stood by the stage, her brown hair with blonde streaks hair cascading in loose waves, her busty figure accentuated by a short, form-fitting dress. Her sharp, appraising gaze met Becky’s as he entered, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"You must be Becky," Kim said, her voice cool and professional. "I’ve heard a lot about you. Let’s get started, shall we?"

Becky nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y-yes, of course."

Before moving to the stage, Kim pointed to her desk where Georgia's paddle was displayed prominently. Do you see that, Becky? Don't make me use it. Has one of those ever been used on you before, Becky?

"Y-yes, ma'am. The ladies in my family tend to be very strict with me...my wife...my bitch sister...even my young daughter," Becky said, barely able to hold his head up because of his shame and embarrassment.

"I will be fair with you, Becky. But there's something about you that tells me you'll be bent over my knees and taking a paddling before this is all over. You do not want to have your fine ass scorched by me," Kim warned.

Kim then gestured for Becky to follow her to the stage. "First things first, Becky, we need to strip away any remnants of your old self. You’re not Becky here—you will become my protégé."

Becky’s eyes widened, but he didn’t protest as Kim began to undress him, removing the bra and panties with efficient, practiced movements. He stood naked before her, his body exposed and vulnerable, his unintimidating cock standing at full attention.

"Now, let’s get you into character," Kim said, handing him a tight, low-cut dress that hugged his slender frame and that just did manage to cover his ass. "This is what a hot bitch would wear. It’s sexy, it’s confident, and it’s going to help you embody the essence of a hot bitch."

Becky slipped into the dress, the fabric clinging to his body like a second skin. He felt a flush of embarrassment. He stammered, “Am I pretty, Kim? I need to be pretty for you.”

Kim stepped back, appraising him with a critical eye.

“You certainly are pretty, little bitch. Not bad at all,” Kim said. "Not bad at all," she said, her tone slightly softer. "But we’ve got a lot of work to do. It’s not just about looks, though you will have that in spades—it’s about attitude, about presence. And right now, you’re still too tentative, too nervous. We need to break that down. You look like you need to get fucked to settle your nerves a little. A girl needs what a girl needs.”

Kim then led Becky through a series of exercises, teaching him how to move, speak, and gesture like a hot bitch. She was relentless, pushing him to his limits, her sharp words cutting through his insecurities. At times, Becky felt overwhelmed, his emotions threatening to spill over, tears welling in his eyes, but Kim was unforgiving.

"You can’t be a diva, Becky," she snapped during one particularly grueling session. "The character you are becoming is not a whiner, sure she’s emotional, any girl or woman that hot is going to be emotional, but she has self-control, Becky, and that’s what you need to have. Now, try it again."

Becky took a deep breath, forcing himself to channel confidence. He moved with more purpose, his gestures more deliberate, his voice steadier. Kim’s expression softened slightly, though her critique remained sharp.

"Better," she said. "But we’re not done yet. Your character is also about sex appeal, and right now, you’re not exuding enough of it. We need to work on your body language, your eye contact, your energy."

The days turned into weeks, each session with Kim more intense than the last. Every time Kin spoke, Becky’s little cock throbbed in its prison. Becky found himself pushed to his limits, his emotions raw and exposed. There were moments when he wanted to give up, to retreat into the comfort of his old self, but Kim would bring out the paddle, circling him while instructing him. and letting him see the hard weapon of ass destruction. Whenever she did that, Becky felt like he might pass out.

One afternoon, after a particularly challenging session, Kim pulled Becky aside, her expression uncharacteristically soft. "You’re making progress, Becky," she said, her voice gentle. " But we’re not done yet. There’s one more thing we need to work on—we must sharpen your sense of submission. The character you are becoming is not just confident and sexy; she also submits when she needs to. Willingly. You must be willing, Becky. And that’s something you’re going to have to embrace. And you also could improve yourself by losing that sassy mouth."

Becky’s heart raced, his mind racing with questions. "What do you mean? What kind of submission?"

Kim’s eyes glinted with a mixture of challenge and encouragement. "You’ll see. Just trust me, Becky. This is the final step in becoming the kind of hot bitch that your family wants you to be. You do want to please them, don’t you?"

The next session was unlike anything Becky had experienced before. Kim taught him how to kneel, how to bow his head, how to offer his body and his will to another person. It was humiliating, arousing, and terrifying all at once, but Becky found himself unable to resist. He felt love for Kin welling up inside of him. His little cock stayed hard all day.

As the weeks went on, Becky’s transformation became more complete. He moved with grace and confidence, his voice carrying a sultry tone, his body language exuding sex appeal. But it was the submission, the act of surrendering himself to another, that truly cemented his new identity.

One evening, after a particularly intense session, the final session, Kim pulled Becky aside, her expression proud. "You’ve done it, Becky," she said, her voice warm. "You’ve become the new, better you. Your mimicry is perfect, your mannerisms flawless. I couldn’t be prouder of you."

Becky felt a surge of pride, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you, Kim. I—I couldn’t have done it without you."

Kim smiled, her eyes glinting with a mixture of admiration and something else—something Becky couldn’t quite place. "You’re welcome, Becky. But remember, this is just the beginning. The real test is yet to come."

On a final note, you have been a good student. You have hardly been any trouble at all, but I need, and I believe you need, one lasting impression to help you always remember what we've accomplished here.

Take off your clothes, but don't remove those pretty heels. Go over to the desk and bend over, placing your hands on the desktop. I'm going to paddle your ass, Becky. I'm going to make you cry. You mustn't leave here without showing me how you cry. It will mean so many things. It will mean that you are obedient. It will mean that you're hot. It will mean that you are respectful to me, and grateful that I have been part of my life. So bend over, Missy. You are about to get what you deserve," she said very firmly, but with something like affection in her voice.

Becky was willing and he loved the humiliation of being paddled, but pain is pain. So he once again begged like a little bitch. "But...but, I've been good, Kim. Please, please don't paddle me!” Becky pleaded. He was already crying.

"You're right," Becky, you have been good, but sometimes students need to be punished even when they don't deserve it,” she told him. Then she proceeded to break Becky's will with Georgia's paddle. Becky started wailing with the first smack, his ass squirming desperately to escape, but in vain. He was willing to submit, but he still wailed. He still pleaded. He still squealed. He still made promises. But the blows continued to rain down relentlessly. Becky’s poor ass belonged to Kim. 

Finally, Kim stopped and stood over him, breathing heavily. "Now get your ass out of here," she sneered. "Go tell Georgia about your lesson today, and don't leave out the spanking part. Tell her about every smack. And don't leave out the part about how it made you feel!" Becky gathered up his things, sobbing uncontrollably, and managed to get dressed. He burned with humiliation and shame.

Becky caught an Uber ride home and sat in the backseat trying to stifle his sobs, and he truly dreaded telling Georgia about how Kim had put him in his place. Becky dreaded disappointing Georgia.

Back home, Becky stepped through the door, his heart pounding in his chest, tears already streaming down his made-up face. The sight of Georgia, standing in the living room with her arms crossed, sent a fresh wave of sobs bubbling up from his throat.

"Oh, Georgia," he wailed, his voice trembling as he rushed into the room. "Kim…I was good, but I think I disappointed her, Georgia! She paddled me so hard! I couldn’t even sit down afterward. I tried to do everything right, I really did. And she said I was really gonna get it even though I didn't deserve it. She said paddling was better when the one who was receiving it was innocent. She said she was paddling me so that I could show her the gratitude and respect she deserved. She said she wanted me to remember the paddling forever. That it would help me remember my acting lessons forever! She whacked me again and again. I’m so sore, and now I’m going to get it from you, too, aren’t I? I don’t deserve this. I’ve been good, but I still get punished!"

Georgia’s expression softened at the sight of Becky’s distress, but her voice remained firm. "Calm down, Becky. Take a breath. You’re not going to get punished… not yet, anyway." She gestured toward the couch. "Sit down and tell me everything. And while you’re at it, take off those clothes. You’re precious to me, but you are a mess."

Becky sniffled, his hands trembling as he began to unbutton his blouse. "But… but I have to keep the heels on, right?" he asked, his voice small and uncertain.

Georgia smirked. "Of course. The heels stay. This isn’t just a punishment, Becky. It’s an aesthetic experience. It’s always pleasing to see the prettiest one cry, just as it is to hear their pleas for mercy. Now, hurry up. I don’t have all day."

As Becky stripped down, his slender frame and delicate features on full display, Georgia’s eyes narrowed. She could see the marks on his ass from Kim’s paddling, the red welts standing out against his pale skin.

"Brett, Ashlee, come here," Georgia called out, her voice sharp. "You need to see this."

Brett and Ashlee hurried into the room, their eyes widening at the sight of Becky’s tear-streaked face and his naked, beaten body.

"Oh my God, Dad," Ashlee gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "What did Kim do to you?"

"She paddled me," Becky whimpered, his voice breaking. "She even said I didn't deserve it. And she knew I would get another one when I got home. Kim said that Georgia had told her that if I got a paddling at the studio, I would get a worse one when I got home. Georgia, please, I just can't face it! I can’t face disappointing you! Ashlee, Brett, please stand up for me and take my part, please! Oh my God, I’ve disappointed everyone!"

Brett’s lips twitched into a smirk as she stepped closer, her eyes raking over Becky’s body.

"Well, it looks like Kim did a number on you. But I have to say, Becky, you do look… pretty. Those tears suit you.”

Georgia’s expression hardened. "Enough chatter. Becky, get over here. It’s time for your punishment."

"But I haven't done anything wrong, Georgia, please! And like you said last week, I'm your wife now! Can't you show mercy for your pretty wife?” Becky wailed. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what was coming. "Please, Georgia, baby, can’t you just… just let it go this time? I’m willing to take any punishment you see fit, baby, but I hurt so much on the inside!"

Georgia’s voice was cold. "No, Becky. I made a vow that I would add a paddling onto any paddling you received from Kim. If I were to back out now as you selfishly suggest, it would stain the honor of our entire family. And you’ve been given so much: lessons, hormone therapy, voice therapy, acting lessons, walking lessons, new clothes—and what have I gotten in return? Nothing but whining and tears. It’s time that we balance the accounts. This will be the first time that I've paddled my pretty wife. That’s hot! I expect your willing submission to my desires."

She grabbed the wooden paddle from the table, its surface smooth and menacing. "This is going to hurt, Becky. But it’s for your own good. Now, bend over the couch, little Mrs."

Becky’s breath hitched as he willingly obeyed, his hands gripping the cushion as he leaned forward. The high heels digging into the carpet and raising his ass up high in the air. He could feel the eyes of the room on him, the weight of their judgment pressing down.

Georgia raised the paddle, her arm swinging down with a force that made Becky cry out. The crack of...