The Liar - Part 2 (Patreon)

Dinner that night was awkward, as Dorothy did her best to sit still, to keep her stepfather and mother from guessing what had happened, since she had no idea if they knew, or had given their authorization. She didn't want to bring up her earlier lie, however, and risk any further punishment, so she stayed quiet, squirming on her sore bottom and praying nobody noticed.

Things weren't much better the next night, either, after Dorothy got fired from her job for calling in yet again, not daring to face work when her backside was still throbbing. It seemed pretty unfair, although she, of course, couldn't explain to her parents why without telling them the story of the day before, so they weren't very happy with her... Especially since she'd barely lasted a month at this job.

She intended to give herself a few days off to recover before starting the job search again, but her stepfather had other ideas, knocking on her door the next night to drop off a maid's uniform. "The daughter of a friend of mine works at this cleaning service, and they recently lost an employee. Congratulations, you're taking their spot."

Dorothy still didn't know if he actually spanked or not - even if he did, she had no idea if he'd have the guts to try to spank her and not just his biological daughter - but his tone told her that this wasn't the right time to test him. She absolutely hated cleaning, even at her own house, and it turned out that doing it for other people was even worse... She despised the job; unfortunately, when she called in, her stepdad demanded to know why as soon as he got home that day, his friend's daughter having tattled on Dorothy.

That was probably also how he knew to be waiting for her in the living room, the day she got fired. All she'd wanted to do was trudge up to her bedroom and change, but as soon as she stepped into the house, he was calling, "Dorothy, get in here!" When she did, he asked pointedly, "What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

"It isn't my fault!" she insisted. "I have a tiny bladder, you know that... I have to use the bathroom a lot, and they just didn't understand. It was discrimination!" It was partially true; her bladder, like the rest of her, was far from large. However, just like in all of her previous jobs, she tended to use that as an excuse to sneak off to the bathroom as often, and for as long, as possible, mostly to play on her phone. 

"I really thought I could trust you," Charles shook his head. "But you really are quite the fibber, aren't you?" Dorothy shook her head, then squealed as her stepfather reached up, grabbing her wrist and yanking her down over his lap. "Your mother told me she didn't believe in spanking you as a child... Maybe that's why you're so badly behaved now. We discussed it, and she thinks this is for the best, too."

"No!" Dorothy gasped, seeing him reach for the back of her skirt. Before she could stop him, he'd pulled it to the side, revealing what was underneath. 

"And what is this?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

She was glad his mole hadn't told him about that, though, for a few moments, she was too embarrassed to say anything herself, either. Finally, she mumbled, "Th-the other girls ganged up on me and made me wear this so I wouldn't need as many bathroom breaks..." Suddenly, inspiration hit. "That's why I got fired! It wasn't even my fault... They stole it from the nursery of a house we were cleaning, and we weren't even supposed to go in there... I didn't, but I was still the one who got in trouble, because I was wearing it!"

There was a shred of truth to that - one of the other girls had made her wear the humiliating thing, although she'd brought it with her, following Dorothy into the bathroom on her first break. Dorothy was much smaller than her, so she'd been easily overpowered, barely able to even fight back as her real panties were slipped into the other woman's purse and she was taped into an actual baby's diaper, which fit far better than she would have ever imagined.

That was definitely some kind of harassment, or physical assault, or something. It took her most of the morning to build up the courage to tattle to their boss... Who had just chuckled and said it had been a good idea, and that maybe she should wear them from then on. That was when Dorothy had quit, too angry to even try to retrieve her actual underwear.

"Oh, Dorothy," her stepfather shook his head. "I tried to give you one last chance... Do you even know how to tell the truth?" He sighed, readjusting her on his lap, and then Dorothy found out first hand that he very much did still believe in spanking.