Disclaimer: Everyone presented in this story is of consenting age, 18 years or older.
*****
It was just another Friday night; mom was out with her friends sipping on half-priced wine at her favorite bar, Daddy had a poker night planned, and my boyfriend Parker had invited me to a party with all of his friends on the soccer team, an invitation I was all-too-excited to receive. My best friend Sarah helped me pick out the perfect outfit to impress all of his friends - maybe if I dressed up they would stop giving him a hard time about dating a girl who wasn't popular or a soccer player, but instead was always in the art room or writing in her journal in the courtyard at school. Sarah picked an outfit that I would never wear, especially since my parents were so strict, but I knew with mom out of the house and Daddy drinking with his friends I could probably get away with it.
I slipped on the black skirt that hugged my stomach and only covered a small portion of my thighs, buttoned up two of the four buttons on the tiny white crop top Sarah let me borrow, and slid the knee-high socks on that I used for a Halloween costume last year. My red hair covered a portion of my breasts, and since I couldn't wear a bra with the crop top the coverage made me feel a little better; at least my nipples were slightly concealed.
As I looked in the mirror I couldn't help but think I looked good, but I was also worried.
Do guys really like girls that dress like this? I look like a glorified school- girl...and I guess I can't bend over or lean the wrong way unless I want everyone there to see my panties and my ass. Oh well...Parker will love it; I know he will.
I could hear Daddy in the kitchen with someone else talking, and assumed it was his best friend, Jay, who always got to poker night early to complain to my dad about his wife, kids, mundane job...all the usual grievances accompanied by cocktails and cigars. Jay always loved me and felt like a second dad at times, and I knew he would defend me if my dad got onto me about my outfit.
He'd say something like, "Come on, Pete, don't you remember being in high school, and wanting to impress people? The best way to do that is with a killer outfit!"
I loved Jay for constantly reminding my dad that I wasn't 5 years old and incapable of taking care of myself. I knew that Jay would defend me, but decided to wear my long coat that hid most of my outfit. It was still cold out even though it was March, so I knew I could get away with wearing it.
As I ventured downstairs the familiar scent of dad's cigars met me, and I heard ice cubes hitting glasses, making me jealous that Daddy and his friends could drink whenever they pleased, while I was stuck sneaking sips of mom's wine after she passed out or drinking crappy beer that Parker and his friends always managed to get their hands on. I rounded the corner into the kitchen and Jay was the first one to look up from his drink.
"Well hey, kid, how's it going?" he asked, and I don't know why, but I always loved that no matter how old I got Jay called me kid. I gave him a little smile, and was about to answer when Daddy interjected. "Come here," he said in a voice that was more stern than usual, and I could feel my chest tighten. I walked to the opposite side of the kitchen where he stood, unable to make eye contact with him. I could feel Jay's green eyes watching me, knowing I was probably about to get lectured.
"Where are you off to tonight?" Daddy asked.
I gave him a little smirk and unintentionally rolled my eyes, reminding him for what seemed like the twentieth time that I had plans to go out with Parker, and assured him that Sarah was going to meet me there.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady, you know how much I hate that," he sneered.
I did know, and as I started trying to apologize he interrupted me.
"Why do you already have your coat on? Are you in a hurry to get out of here?"
Daddy looked me up and down and I knew he suspected I was hiding something.
I tensed up a little, and was thankful the jacket had pockets so I could hide my crossed fingers as I lied to him, assuring him I had only put the jacket on because it was already in my room and I didn't think I would be at the house much longer, but Parker was running late, as usual. Daddy didn't buy it.
"Unzip your jacket," he commanded.
Hesitantly, I guided the zipper down and the jacket slowly opened, revealing small pieces of my outfit until eventually it seemed pointless to even have the jacket on. Daddy ran his eyes up and down my body and I felt entirely too exposed, like my clothes were see-through or something. It felt like hours passed before he said anything, although only seconds had, and as I waited for his response I noticed the half-empty bottle of bourbon on the counter - that explained why he was being so curt. Daddy finally spoke.
"Why don't you turn around so Jay can see what you think an appropriate outfit is?"
I shook my head in protest, but knew that if I didn't listen I would be in even more trouble. As I turned to Jay I kept my eyes on the floor; I couldn't bare the embarrassment.
"Whoa...you must be pretty determined to impress some people tonight," Jay said.
I looked up for a brief moment and realized he was practically gawking at me.
I knew this would upset Daddy, but I was also a little relieved that my outfit wasn't as ridiculous as I thought. If I could get attention like that from a married man, I could only imagine how the boys my age would respond to it.
Daddy was less than pleased with Jay's response.
"Take your jacket off," he insisted, and, once again, I uselessly shook my head in protest and obeyed, knowing I couldn't avoid a spanking if I didn't.
I was still facing Jay and his eyes grew wide as more of my body became exposed and while I couldn't see my Daddy's eyes I knew they were scanning my body in disapproval.
"Bend over," Daddy barked at me.
As I did I could feel my eyes start to water, knowing that at the very least I was going to get grounded for this, if not worse. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears from forming, and began to stand upright when Daddy's hand met my back and pushed me back down.
"I didn't tell you to move, young lady, Jay needs to see this," Daddy commanded
Keeping my eyes closed, I could hear Jay's footsteps and the ice cubes keeping his bourbon chilled clanking against the glass that held his now almost empty drink.
"What do you think?" my dad asked, and to my surprise Jay didn't defend me.
"She looks like a little whore to me. Where does a girl your age even get panties like that?"
Jay was referring to the lacey black pair I had taken from mom's laundry, and now I knew I was really in trouble.
My dad scoffed, "You little slut, did you really steal your mom's panties in hopes of getting fucked like she does?"
The tears were unstoppable and I let them run down my face as I shook my head.
"No Daddy," I insisted through my tears, "I thought they were mine, I have a pair just like them."
Wrong answer. I knew it was a terrible answer. All of the sudden I felt a hard slap against my ass, as pain shot through my legs.
"Daddy, please," I begged, "Please don't..."
My voice trailed off as another loud slap sent more pain through my body, causing heavier tears to stream down my face, ruining my makeup and making me feel more vulnerable than I ever had.
*
My daughter looked like a fucking slut. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was almost comical that she thought she could get out of the house like that, however I was anything but amused. I have enough to worry about with work, taking care of Eva's alcoholic mother, and listening to Jay go on and on every Friday night about the same shit that's been bothering him for twenty years, but this was just too much.
I couldn't let my little girl leave the house dressed like a streetwalker. I knew she was trying to impress her new boyfriend, he's a handsome guy and older than she is, but my only daughter was not about to go to a party filled with "Parkers". I knew what guys that age were thinking about, and I couldn't bare the thought that my baby girl wanted attention from guys like that...dressed like that...hell no.
I was going to have to teach her a lesson. Jay is my best friend but I hate the way he has always encouraged her, I needed to teach him a lesson with my fist sometime, but I had bigger issues to worry about. I've always thought discipline should be a balance of verbal and physical action, and I planned to stick to that notion with Eva.
*
"Daddy, please stop! I promise I won't go to the party just please stop," Eva cried, as her ass became even redder.
The pain was constant now, and even between spanks the stinging feeling on her skin was too much to handle. Her knees came close to buckling and sending her to the floor with each blow. Jay was shocked by the entire scene, but couldn't seem to bring himself to leave the kitchen. He would never admit this to Pete, but he had always wondered what Eva's bare ass looked like, and as he sipped on his bourbon and watched Pete punish her, Jay was pleased.
He found himself getting hard and tried to stay behind the island in the kitchen that separated him from where the father and daughter were.
"This is what happens to sluts," Pete yelled at Eva, and as he did he redirected his glare towards Jay.
Pete paused for a moment, "Don't you agree that she looks like a slut?"
Jay didn't know what to do - his best friend had put him in quite a compromising situation but he figured he might as well appease him.
"Yeah, she definitely looks like a slut," Jay answered, and without thinking he added, "Maybe she would like to see how it
feels