Strip!

"Daddy, strip for me," I said.

He turned around and smiled at me, a wide and sultry smile.
"Oh, you want daddy to strip for you? To show you every naughty little bit of my body?"

He pushed the bra up so that his chest looked like breasts, and he rubbed them. He even bent down. I couldn't help but sniff. Somehow, perhaps because of the bra itself, he smelled more like a woman.

"Do you want to see?" he asked, winking. "Hmm?"

Then he regained control. He looked down at his body and backed up. He tried to cover himself with his hands and arms.

"No son," he said, now more embarrassed than anything, "you don't want to see that. Close your eyes! Look away! And stop this."

"But daddy--"

"Dad," he corrected.

"Your cock is hard." I pointed to his erection. The cockhead was poking out of the white panties.

"You made it like that."

"I hadn't yet," I said.

He blushed and yelled again. "Stop it right now, son! This isn't okay! It isn't funny. You have to stop. Stop now and we'll forget about anything that's happened."

I snapped again.

"We'll forget everything," he said, taking the bra slowly down his shoulder, "except my seduction of you."

The bra around his torso, he asked "do you like what you see? Do you like daddy's titties? Daddy's girly breasts?"

And then he tried to regain control again.

"Listen, son, stop this. You'll never go anywhere again. You'r grounded if you don't stop this. And no technology either. Nothing! You'll just go to work and come home and do whatever chores I think up as punishment."

"Daddy," I said. "I do the punishing now." I snapped my fingers and gave another command.