The Ogden Pruett Challenge

Chapter 10
An Unsound Spanking

Chapter Description: Can a tiny, age-regressed dad give his full-sized son the spanking he deserves? Probably not, but let's watch him try

"You wipe that smile off your face!" Ricky's dad raged at his twelve year old son. "It isn't funny!"

"S-Sorry, Dad!" Ricky apologized, struggling to stifle a laugh. But it kind of was. 

Dad had taken some Miniscuel, shrinking himself to pint-size to trim his prize-winning hydrangeas in the front yard garden. It was finely detailed work requiring a gentle hand and a delicate touch; at normal size, he always struggled but at five inches tall, his little hands were quite adept at handling the task, though he had to stand on his toes to reach the taller blossoms and he was always worried  someone would look over the fence and spy him under the petals.  So he waited until his wife was out and didn't even tell his son, the only other one in the house at the time. 

Which was why it took Ricky so long to discover Mrs. Gruber's Pekinese puppy Pippi had gotten loose and chased his dad across the lawn. By the time he'd noticed the commotion outside, Mrs. Gruber had retrieved her dog and, mistaking the now prepubescent dad for a neighbor kid teasing her dog, was administering a ferocious bare bottom spanking. 

"Gosh, Dad! Usually, it's YOU spanking ME! It sure was weird seeing YOU get spanked!" Ricky giggled. "On your bare butt too! Probably for the first time in years! Boy, did you howl!  You sure were kicking and screaming!"

Tiny, regressed to a couple years younger than his own son, and stark naked, Ricky's Dad scowled up at him. Ricky was carrying his diminished dad in the palm of his hand across the yard.  

"At least Mrs. Gruber apologized when I told her who you were," Ricky consoled his still mortified dad. "Boy! Was SHE embarrassed!"

Dad glared up at his giant son, his freckled face scowling murderously. His little boy backside stuck out behind him, still stinging and glowing a bright cherry red. 

"Wow!" Ricky chuckled, eyes wide, staring at the blazing little rear. "For an old lady, she sure does pack a wallop, doesn't she?"

Dad didn't answer, but his winces as he shifted from one foot to the other on his son's palm told the whole story. He just prayed nobody else was watching.

"Hey, Rick!" 

Dad gulped. "Oh no..."

Walt Paulson, the smug next door neighbor stood by the fence waving.  "What's that you've got there?"

"DON'T YOU DARE GO OVER..." Dad growled, but too late. Ricky was already heading over.

"Hi, Mister Paulson!" Ricky chirped, oblivious as ever. "Dad had kind of an accident with those shrinking pills..."

"Wow! He certainly did!" Snickering, Walt leaned closer to check out his helplessly fuming, humiliated neighbor. "Cute little feller!"

He patted Dad's tiny head, nearly knocking him over. 

"Hey!"

"Sorry, guy!" Walt chuckled, looking around at the naked boy's still burning red bottom. "What happened back there? Did he get spanked for being a bad boy?"

"Kinda, yeah..." Ricky flashed a lopsided grin. "It's a long story..."

"Well, that'll teach you not to be naughty, Junior!"

He playfully flicked the little mite's freshly spanked, still tender rump.

"YOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!"

Squealing in pain and outrage, Dad did an energetic war dance on Ricky's palm, clutching his stinging little cheeks and glaring murderously up at his amused neighbor. 

"Well, I'd better let you take the little fellow inside before he catches cold! See you later!"

"Bye, Mister Paulson!" Ricky waved goodbye. "Gee, he's always so nice, isn't he?"

Dad rubbed his rear, shaking with impotent rage.

Ricky carried him inside the house and set him carefully on the coffee table in the living room. He looked down at his skinny, dark-haired, jug-eared little preadolescent father standing there pouting, his matchstick arms crossed over his scrawny chest, his pudgy little boy rump glowing like a hot coal. 

"Stop smirking, mister!" He shouted up at Ricky, his shrill voice almost too faint to hear. "I'm still your father!" His little tummy heaved, his outie belly button sticking out. He didn't have a trace of pubic hair and his immature little pee-pee waggled over his almost invisible testicles.

"That must have been scary," Ricky said as sympathetically as he could, trying not to laugh as he imagined the little yappy dog chasing his diminished dad across the lawn, snapping at his unshod heels. "I guess Pippi thought you were a mouse or something!"

"Oh, just wait till I get big again!" Dad raged, dimples moving from one hip to the other as he shifted his weight to the other foot. "I'll kick that stupid dog from here to..."

"It's just a puppy, Dad..."

Dad squared his bony, pink shoulders, staring daggers up at his giant, fully clothed son, who was too big to even notice. 

"It's not funny!" He repeated in his tiny, angry peep, blushing furiously. He paced around the coffee table, trying to reclaim some dignity, his flaming red backside undermining him with every step. "You'd better watch it, young man!" 

"Sorry, Dad!" Ricky said, still smiling. 

Casting another angry glare up at his son, Dad stormed across the table over to a ceramic trinket box where he could sit down.  Crossing his arms over his heaving, scrawny chest, he angrily plunked himself down. 

And bounded back up again instantly.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!"

Jumping and dancing around in shock and agony, he hopped from one foot to the other,  clutching his very sore and extremely sensitive little bottom. 

"OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!" Bouncing and wiggling, he leapt around the coffee table, howling at the top of his wee lungs. "YOOOOOOOW!"

Ricky couldn't help it; confronted with the sight of his pint-sized, prepubescent father's frenetic, buck naked hula, he collapsed into hysterical laughter. 

"OW! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW! Ohhhhh......"

Dad stood gasping, rubbing his stinging hindquarters and trying to catch his breath, fighting back tears of humiliation, seething as he looked up at his still guffawing son. 

"All right, that's it!" Dad squeaked up at him, his pink chest heaving. "You think this is amusing?  We'll see how much fun you find it when you're the one getting spanked! Get undressed! Now!"

Ricky froze in shock. "Now?"

"Yes! Now!" Insisted the furious little mite. 

"While you're still... Don't you think you should wait until you're..."

"You heard me!" Dad was red in the face, among other areas. "Now! You get those clothes off and get ready for the walloping of your life!"

"Okay..."

Still dubious, Ricky stripped off his shoes, socks, shirt, jeans, and briefs, tossing them onto a nearby chair.  Presently, both of them were completely naked.

In a way, that made it worse. Dad was skinny and underdeveloped, while Ricky was a bit on the chunky side.  Moreover, Ricky was a pubescent twelve year old while his Dad was a prepubescent ten year old. Already, Ricky sported a bit of peach fuzz, in stark contrast to his father's bald little pubes. Even if they were the same size, Dad would still look like a scrawny little shrimp next to his son. Under the present circumstances, Ricky was like a pink mountain looming over his teensy but determined father. 

Dad stood, his son's enormous penis hanging over his head like a boom mic, the tip larger than Dad's entire head.  

Ricky looked down at him looking up at him. "Uh... Maybe we should wait...?"

Dad's mouth was dry but he did his best to put up a brave front. "You're not getting out of it that easy, youngster! Turn around!"

"Well... Okay..."

Ricky turned. Now his bare buttocks hung above his Dad like storm clouds, each cheek over twice Dad's size.  They jiggled as Ricky moved, looking like an earthquake to his miniature father. 

Dad reached up to slap his son's gargantuan bare behind... And discovered he couldn't quite reach it. Even standing on his toes, the plump, enormous orb remained just out of reach.  It shone above him like a literal full moon, pale and white. Dad's own considerably smaller full moon burned crimson, its sting reminding him of the humiliation he was hellbent on avenging.  

Ricky looked over his shoulder down at his puny little dad standing helplessly on the coffee table. 

"Uh... Dad?"

Dad's face was crimson too. "I'll get it! I'll get it!"

He started jumping up and down in a futile attempt to reach. 

"Uh..." Ricky half turned. "Maybe we should put you somewhere higher."

Reaching down, he plucked up his diminutive dad...

"HEY!"

...And carried him over to a nearby kitchen chair, where he was eye-level with his son's still unspanked backside.  

"There!" Ricky said as he set him down on the chair seat. "That should be better for you!"

"You keep that smugness out of your voice, young man!" Dad huffed shrilly. 

Still, it did raise Dad up to where he could at least reach his son's bottom. Ricky walked over in front of him and bent over, his palms resting on his knees, waiting.

Dad stood there, his son's lily white posterior filling his entire field of vision.  The crack reached far above his head.  Angrily, he smacked his hand against a small corner of one cheek as hard as he could. It made a barely audible clapping sound. Ricky didn't even seem to notice. 

"Dad? You ready?" 

Face reddening, rump already reddened, Dad swung both hands against the huge wall of pale flesh. Again, no response. 

Now furious, Dad took a few steps back, then ran headlong into the enormous buttcheek, slamming into it as hard as he could. 

He bounced off, falling backwards onto his rear. Instantly, he was up again. "YOOOOOOOOW!"

Now the pint-sized Dad was really mad.  "Okay, little mister!" He squeaked, his tiny wee-wee jiggling. "Now you're really gonna get it!"

Backing up as far as he could on the chair, Dad ran toward his enormous target, screaming like a Comanche.

Ricky was largely oblivious to all this. He waited, bent over, skin starting to goose pimple as the afternoon turned to dusk.

"Dad? Mom'll be home soon. Maybe we..." 

He looked behind him. His tiny dad was nowhere to be seen. 

"Dad???"

He turned around. The chair was empty. 

"DAD!"

Dropping to his knees, he searched the floor, terrified his father had fallen and hurt himself. He looked all over, even under the couch, but his preadolescent dad had vanished. 

"Gosh!" He stood, bewildered. "What could have happened to him?"

He scratched his rear, his fingers narrowly missing a tiny, kicking leg protruding from the inner depths of his crack.  He shifted slightly, bothered by an uncomfortable tickling sensation back there.

"Gosh! I hope he's okay! Poor little guy!"

Just then, he heard his mom's key in the front door lock. Grabbing his clothes, he hurried into his room to get dressed.

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